Memories of Sunnydale
by Jill2
Summary: Years into the Future. Angel returns to Sunnydale to take care of Buffy's grand-daughter. This was written before "The Gift".
1. The Return

First AN: I wrote this story before "The Gift", so Buffy never died ... then.  
  
FIC: Memories of Sunnydale   
Author: Jill  
Disclaimer: I SO do not own them - sigh, so don't sue.  
Distribution: Want it, take it, but tell me where it goes  
Spoilers: the whole B/A-thing  
Summary: after years of absence Angel's needed back in Sunnydale  
Timeline: set into the future   
Rating: mostly like the show, I think  
Feedback: pretty please!!!  
Dedication: To Claire, who did the beta-ing! Thanks, luv!!! The credits for the   
title go to her!!!!  
  
AN: For this story, Angel left Buffy after Grad 2, with all the tears and   
heartbreak. BUT neither IWRY nor Sanctuary happened the way it did in the show.   
Angel came back to Sunnydale in Pangs, and Buffy went to see him in IWRY, but he   
didn't turn human. They just agreed to stay friends and accepted that their   
relationship - although they loved each other - couldn't work. As a result Buffy   
went to LA in Sanctuary, but they didn't fight. She just helped with Faith.   
The PTB even expected him to stay near to the slayer to help her if needed.   
(Remember what Whistler said in Becoming about Angel's destiny. I never get over   
the fact that Joss just forgot about it with a snip of his finger - sigh). So he   
went to Sunnydale from time to time to help out. Anything else is explained in   
the story.   
  
AN2: I'm not good at that future stuff. You know electronic things and all. So   
although it's set in the future, the basic things I just take from the present.  
  
  
MAJOR ANGST WARNING - CHARACTER DEATH  
  
  
Chapter 1: The Return  
  
  
Sunnydale 2060  
  
  
It felt awkward, he had to admit. It had been so many years since he'd been  
there. A half life ago actually. A human life that was. For a vampire like him  
it wasn't that much or shouldn't be.  
  
Sunnydale.  
  
A name that still haunted his dreams, forever connected with a dream that   
wasn't meant to be. Forever connected with the only woman he'd ever loved.  
  
Walking down the streets in the moonlight the whole scenery had changed and was  
yet so familiar, he knew every corner, every street and still discovered  
something new. It warm and a soft breeze played in the air. He expected her to  
come around the corner and smile at him, a little bit uncertain of herself but  
determined in her duty. Her movements fluent and deadly, her strength  
admirable.  
  
Buffy.  
  
She belonged to the dark streets as did he and yet he'd refused to believe this   
a long time ago.  
  
He'd left her so many years ago, sacrificed everything he ever wanted, ever  
dreamed of for her, to give her the chance of as much normality as  
possible. And had never left her completely. She'd never been out of his mind   
or his protection. Silently he'd kept contact with Giles as long as Buffy had  
been on active duty. Retired at the age of 40 she'd been the oldest slayer in  
history and part of her success had been Angel's backup when needed.  
  
He'd danced at her wedding with Riley when she was 25, he'd held her in his   
arms when they were divorced five years later. She'd remarried at the age of  
33. Brian had been a nice guy, but had been killed in Buffy's last year as a   
slayer, leaving her with three children, two from her marriage with Riley, one  
with Brian. Daniel, Moira and Faith, all of them beautiful, intelligent and  
not his !.  
  
After she'd retired from slaying the PTB had summoned Angel to Europe. His  
strength was needed somewhere else. And inwardly he was glad. To be near her   
and to not be allowed to be *near* her was a torture that outweighed everything   
he'd ever experienced in his long un-life. To see her with other men, to see her   
carrying other men's children. So he actually welcomed the change, he'd spent 40   
years away from America, spending his time between England, Italy and France.   
He'd even set foot into Romania for a short time. Enough time to remove the   
clause from his curse, but too late for her.  
  
And now he was back. Back because Buffy wanted it that way. Because she had  
summoned him.  
  
Suppressing the urge to shuffle his feet on the ground he looked at the wooden  
door in front of him. Taking a deep unnecessary breath he reached out and  
knocked. After a moment he heard a sound and then the door opened. She had   
grown old, her body fragile, her hair white, her face wrinkled, the hands  
calloused and freckled and now she smiled.  
  
"Angel." The smile was genuine and surprised at the same time as if she   
couldn't believe he'd come.  
  
"Willow," the vampire smiled back. "It's ... well, I suppose it is good to see  
you," he looked a bit sheepishly.  
  
She gestured with her hand, "Don't fuss. I'm old and fragile, but I'm so glad   
to see you. Come in." She moved aside to let him in and showed him into her  
living-room. "Can I get you anything? I've made myself some tea, you want a   
cup."  
  
More because he felt obliged to he nodded. So she went into the kitchen and  
returned with a mug in her hand only seconds later. For her eighty years  
Willow was still very mobile. And her eyes still held that slightly innocent  
expression. It was something that drew others towards her.  
  
"Now," she said after a moment, "sit down." She handed him the steaming mug and  
looked at him. "I wasn't sure you'd come."  
  
"I," he cleared his throat and began again, "I wasn't sure either. I ... I'm  
still not sure I can go through it."  
  
"I know," she nodded and blinked to keep the welling tears from falling. "It's  
hard for me too." When she saw him nod she continued, "They're all gone now.   
It's only me who's left. It's getting lonely."  
  
"Willow..."  
  
"No," she raised a hand, "Don't pity me. It's what happens when you're getting  
old. I should've gotten used to it, but somehow," she sighed. "I've been around  
death a lot, that's for certain, but it seems you get never used to it.  
Especially when it affects friends."  
  
"No, you never get used to it," Angel affirmed. He knew what she was going   
through. He'd lived with it since the moment the gypsies had restored his soul.   
He'd seen people come and go, birth and death, the circle of life. Something   
natural and normal. He knew it was him who was far from the norm, but it didn't   
keep him from missing people he'd known, he'd grown fond of.  
  
"Giles we expected to go before us," she began almost talking to herself. "He   
was after all over 20 years our senior, but it hurt. Oh, it hurt. I was over 40   
at that time, but I suddenly felt lost. I know he was mostly Buffy's mentor, but   
we all, the whole gang didn't have the best of homes and we ... we just relied on him. Suddenly he was gone. I'm only glad Buffy was retired by then. You both   
were just great when Brian was killed. Without you," she shook her head, "I don't know if she'd have made it through all this."  
  
Then she suddenly looked him in the eye, "She loved Brian, you know. More than  
she loved Riley," she had to laugh at that, "much more. But ... there was   
always a part of her they couldn't reach. Her men, I mean. She had two lovers   
after she was retired, did you know that?," then shaking her head at this stupid   
question she said, "of course you'd know that."  
  
"Yes, I did," he replied quietly.  
  
"Yeah," she breathed and sipped at her coffee. "She made the best of her life.  
Without you I mean."  
  
"Willow, I..."  
  
"No, I'm not blaming you or her. If someone's to blame it's Faith. It really  
sucked regarding you two."  
  
He had to smile at her teenage expression. It didn't fit the old, elegant  
woman sitting opposite to him, and yet it fitted perfectly.  
  
"When Xander died," she continued the subject she'd started earlier, "Well, it  
was hard. Dying of cancer at the age of 50. It was too early," she sighed  
again, "but then that's the way life goes, doesn't it. Then Anya shortly after  
him." She suddenly frowned, "Did I ever tell you that we never found her body,   
I still suspect that she contacted D'Hoffren and returned to her vengeance  
business." She had to grin at that and Angel couldn't help but smile.  
  
She shrugged, "If they'd had children then maybe I would think she'd really   
died, but so..., never mind." Suddenly her eyes watered, "and then Oz," she   
sniffed. "It's almost twenty years now, but still." Frowning she gazed at him, "I shouldn't complain. At least I had more than 40 wonderful years with him. That's more than most people get. When he died I shortly considered joining him, you know."  
  
"Willow," Angel gave her a sympathetic look.  
  
"Don't tell me you didn't think about suicide? I wouldn't believe it, because I  
know you." Seeing his sheepish smile she nodded. "Exactly what I thought. But   
we can't just go and take our lives, there's still too much to do." She sighed  
again. "And then Cordelia."  
  
At the mention of the brunette's name she saw grief flicker over Angel's  
features. After he'd left America he'd kept the closest contact with her. She'd  
died aged 70 together with her husband Wesley being attacked by a bunch of  
demons. They weren't in the demon business anymore, they'd just been in the   
wrong place at the wrong time. A dark alley after a visit to the opera. At least   
it had been a quick and almost painless death with the demons snapping their   
necks in an instant. Their two daughters were living in Australia now, both   
happily married and having their own children there. Angel had never contacted   
them, too frightened to endanger them. He didn't want any vampire or demon to get attracted to someone he would care about.  
  
"But somehow," the witch said with a sigh, "I always thought Buffy would stay  
with me. And now," again tears welled up in her eyes. They weren't the same   
than before when she'd spoken of Oz, they were more intense, there was more grief behind them, because the loss was fresh. "But to lose both of them, actually all three because of a plane crash," now she couldn't stop the tears any more. They were streaking down her pale cheeks.  
  
Angel's face wore a stoic expression, he'd already wept all his tears. They  
weren't any left. All that the former red-head saw was the deep grief in his   
dark eyes, he'd lost the only thing that really mattered to him. The only person   
that ever touched his soul enough to lose it.  
  
"I'm sorry," Willow said after a while and wiped her face. "I just miss her   
so."  
  
"I do too," Angel's voice cracked and he cleared his throat. "I got the clause  
removed," he added after a moment.  
  
"Oh," the witch looked at him understandingly. "Oh, Angel, I'm so sorry."  
  
His response was surprisingly a smile, "You're the only person whose able to  
understand that," he said. "When I told Gunn," he shrugged, "he just said  
something like, hey man, now you can shag."  
  
"He never saw you and Buffy together," she reminded him and he nodded. Clearing  
her throat she continued, "To lose Buffy, Faith and Tim, Faith's husband,  
altogether," she shook her head.  
  
Faith had been Buffy's youngest daughter, born when her mother was 36. Named  
after the other slayer who gave her life by protecting her mother, she had been   
a beautiful young girl and a happily married wife with a daughter, who had  
to be almost 18 by now.  
  
Angel frowned and looked at the witch, "And the girl? I mean, Buffy's   
grand-daughter, what happened to her?"  
  
The witch eyed him for a long moment and then slowly said, "She is the reason   
you were summoned, Angel. You are meant to take care of her."  
  
  
End Chapter 1.  



	2. The Request

  
  
AN: ** ... ** marks the letter  
  
Chapter 2: The Request  
  
  
"I what?," the vampire couldn't anything but stare at her incredulously. Then   
he suddenly jumped up and began to pace the room. "You can't be serious about   
this. Besides that I have no idea how to take care of a teenager, the girl   
doesn't even know me." He stopped and stared at the witch again.  
  
"I'm sorry I blurted it out like that," she replied a bit sheepishly. "It   
wasn't meant to come out that way."  
  
"Oh, that's a relief," he shot back, rolling his eyes and throwing his hands   
into the air. "And it changes everything of course." He had to laugh, but it   
didn't sound happy. Nice trap, Willow, really nice trap, he thought.  
  
"Angel," she looked at him pleadingly, "I wanted to wait until ... until after  
the memorial service tomorrow night. Anne will be there too, her name is Anne   
by the way."  
  
He ran a hand over his face and then gazed at her through narrowed eyes: "But   
you knew it from the start."  
  
"Yes," she admitted. "Buffy, well, she left a letter." Seeing his eyes, she  
raised a hand. "No, it's not what you think. She wrote it six years ago in case  
anything should ever happen to her or Anne's parents." She took a deep breath,  
"She wrote it the moment she heard that Anne will become a slayer."  
  
"What?," his voice was barely a whisper. "She's a slayer? Buffy's   
grand-daughter is a slayer?"  
  
"Not yet," Willow shook her head. "She hasn't been called yet, but," she   
sighed, sure that he wouldn't like her next words. "She'll be called soon."  
  
"How do you know?," his eyes narrowed even more.  
  
"I, well," she gazed down at her folded hands and then back at him, "let's just  
say I've developed some skills in the witch-department since your last visit."  
  
"So you decided to take a quick view into the future?" He shook his head in  
disbelief.  
  
"I did," she admitted. "I know, I know it's not a good idea, but now it's done.   
I did it for Buffy. When we knew Anne would be the slayer she wanted to  
know. And so I ... tried to help her. After that she wrote the letter. It's  
addressed to you, but I know the basic contents. At least everything that's   
about Anne."  
  
Suddenly feeling very weak Angel sat down again. Leaning his head back, his   
eyes closed he said, "Where is it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The letter?"  
  
"Oh," Willow stood up with almost youthful grace. "I've taken care of it. Do   
you want to read it now?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded opening his eyes again. "I really would like to."  
  
"Okay."  
  
As soon as she'd left the room, Angel's thought began to race. This was   
madness, sheer madness. And he'd thought falling in love with a slayer was bad,  
but this was so much worse. Now he was meant to take care of another slayer and  
it was Buffy's grand-child by all means. He couldn't do it. He simply couldn't  
and yet knew that he would because Buffy wanted him to do it. He'd never been  
able to not give in to her wishes. For her he'd even been able to pretend being  
Angelus again.  
  
He didn't want to do this. How would the girl look? Would she have Buffy's  
mouth, her eyes? Or would she have no resemblance at all? That would be the   
best he decided. Just to think he would have to live with a daily reminder of his love. The thought was pure agony. But maybe it was another plot the PTB had  
cooked up for him. Making amends, he snorted inwardly, to be an ensouled   
vampire really sucked.  
  
He looked up when he saw Willow coming back into the room, holding the letter   
in her hand. "I'm leaving you alone with it. It's late anyway." She smiled. "I've made you a bed in the basement. Just go down the stairs. There's little fridge down there with blood stored." Seeing his puzzled gaze she grinned, "Spike's staying here from time to time."  
  
"Spike," he echoed baffled. "How is he?," he asked almost against his will.  
  
"Well." She shrugged. "He's Spike. He can take care of himself. He even found   
Dru and kicked her ass." She had to laugh, "Their love wasn't that eternal after all."  
  
"Yeah," Angel replied but his eyes were focused on the letter.  
  
"Oh," she handed it over. "Sleep tight, Angel. See you in the morning. This   
house is vampire proof, I will keep the blinds shut. I'm used to it, Spike and  
all." She shrugged again and then left the room.  
  
Angel sat for a while, staring at the folded paper in his hands. Words from  
Buffy, he thought. Words she had for him. Blinking rapidly to prevent the tears  
from falling he unfolded the letter and began to read.  
  
  
**  
My beloved Angel,  
  
when you read this letter I will be gone. And now I'm stuck. I don't know how   
to continue. How does a 74 year old ex-slayer write a last letter to her vampiric ex-lover. No you aren't my ex-lover although you technically are. You were and are the true love of my life. Fate was against us, but we had some wonderful moments and I've cherished those memories my whole life.  
  
Shortly before he died Giles told me that he always admired you for the   
strength to let me go and live. I've never thanked you for it, but I do now. When you left I was so hurt and angry, that I couldn't understand, but I can now. I knew what you gave up, because there was nothing to fill the gap I left in your life. I had a life before me. Granted, it wasn't the average life of the average American woman, but still there was one.  
  
It was a fault to marry Riley. But you already know that, you were there. I   
can't even begin to imagine what it cost you to stay near me, see me marrying  
other men, dating other men, making love to them or carrying their children.  
At the beginning I didn't even care. I thought it was your own fault and maybe  
to hurt you I married Riley. It was a complete disaster, but I'm glad he gave   
me two children. Two children I loved, two children who are dead now. I don't  
even know if you heard about it. They died in a car accident - together. They   
were on their way to see their dying father. When it happened I understood for   
the first time what it meant for you to always stay behind the ones you love.  
  
No mother should have to bury her children. It's the most horrible thing one   
can imagine. For that I'm glad now that my mother died so early. With my job as   
the slayer she might have gone through the same. She must have been scared to   
death night after night when I went out hunting demons.  
  
Brian wasn't a fault. I loved him. I really did. As far as it was possible for  
the fact that he wasn't you. There's a place deep inside of me that has only   
been touched once. Sometimes I think you weren't the only one to lose his soul   
that night. Maybe we lost them in each other. I like to think that way, because   
it comforts me. I don't know if you understand it, but I hope you do. **  
  
Angel put the letter down for a moment and closed his eyes. He had given up to  
keep the tears from falling. 40 years away from her and he still loved her like  
he did the first moment he saw her. She was dead now and yet alive in every   
cell of his body. He had to take some deep breaths to steady himself, to prevent  
himself from cracking with all the emotions rushing onto him. Slowly he lowered  
his head again to continue reading.  
  
**  
But enough with all this. There's something I have to ask of you. Maybe it's   
too much, but there isn't anyone else. Willow's getting old and Faith, well,   
she's a wonderful daughter, but has inherited a bit too much from her Granny.   
She's too much like my mom to be of any help. And I SO do not trust Spike. He   
never got his chip removed do you know and he even tried to tell me he loved me.   
Imagine me laughing right now. He's certainly the most fucked up vampire I've   
ever met. Sorry, for the language, my daughter would have a fit at that.  
  
But there's Anne. She's Faith's daughter, my grand-child. I really have a  
grand-child. It's so amazing. It's real miracle. She's wonderful and smart and  
sometimes a real pain in the ass, just a teenager. She isn't even 12 yet. I   
wish for her always to be happy, but it won't be that way. The thing I've always  
feared for my daughters has now happened to my beloved grand-daughter. No, not  
yet, but she's going to be a slayer. On her 18th birthday she's to be called.  
Willow helped me to find it out. Don't ask, just accept it. We know it.  
  
And here's my request. I'm old and though I'm healthy and in good shape for my  
age I won't last forever. I'm human after all. If anything should happen to me,  
anything. Take care of her. She'll need someone to look out for her. I know you  
will say now, that she'll have her watcher and that is true, but do we know   
what he'll be like. Giles was pure luck, he was a wonderful man and I could trust him with my life, but we both know that most of them aren't like this. Imagine he's some stiff Brit who only knows the slayer -handbook. Some type like Wesley in the beginning. She wouldn't obey. She's too much like her Granny and as a result she would be killed, because she'd be the slayer nevertheless and all the demons will go after her.  
  
You were the reason I outlived my slayer-duties. We both know it. Because I had  
your backup and your love. She will need you. Maybe she won't be nice to you at  
the beginning. I never told her about you, because I wanted her to keep her   
youth as long as possible. I didn't tell Faith either. She was too small to  
remember you and so we never talked about it. After I was retired I didn't see   
a reason to scare her, although I took care my children always wore crosses   
around their necks.  
  
Willow promised - if she should outlive me - to help you with Anne. She'll do   
her best to make her understand. Don't be afraid, Angel. You will like her. Who  
couldn't. She's just lovely. And when she grows up she'll be beautiful. Well,   
you will see her soon and know yourself. Please keep her safe for me.  
  
One last thing. When I look or looked at my children there was only one regret.  
That they weren't yours as well. I would have given the world to have a child  
with you. But I will never regret that I love you. This love is something most  
people never find. At least I don't know any. I know, Willow loves Oz, but it's  
different. Maybe because it wasn't forbidden, but maybe - and I prefer that  
version - because we had something very special.  
  
I love you, my Angel.  
  
Buffy  
  
**  
  
The letter slipped from the vampire's fingers, while the tears kept on falling.  
And he had thought there weren't any left.  
  
After a while they stopped. Too exhausted to move Angel closed his eyes. A part  
of his mind realised that the blind's were closed and so he didn't fight when  
sleep finally overwhelmed him.  
  
End Chapter 2.  



	3. The Memories

Chapter 3: The Memories  
  
  
That was the way Willow found him in the morning, sleeping on her couch. She   
had to smile at the view and had to sigh inwardly. He looked so handsome, so   
young and was yet older than she. She could clearly remember the evening in the   
Bronze when Buffy had described her feelings every time he was near. God, they'd   
been young and innocent at that time, believing this relationship had any chance   
to work.  
  
It had never been a matter of love. She'd never seen two people more in love   
with each other. Their love had survived Angelus and Hell, two marriages, three  
children, other lovers and still they loved each other. That was the most   
amazing thing. Neither of them ever doubted the other loved him or her. It was   
just a fact. But they both accepted that they couldn't be together and while   
Angel's fate was to stay on his own, Buffy had tried to move on with her life.  
  
And she hadn't done that badly with it. There had been times where she'd been  
happy, at her weddings, when her babies were born and many other occasions, but  
behind all this there was always a deep underlying pain. Grief for what fate   
had thrown upon her. Fate that denied her the man she loved more than anything.   
And yet there had been times when Willow had envied her. To find such a complete and utter love had to be beyond imagination.  
  
It wasn't that Buffy was always talking about Angel. In fact she rarely did   
talk about him. Never with her men, never with her children, only once or twice   
with Willow and sometimes with Cordy when they saw each other. It didn't affect   
her relationship with Brian, she'd loved him and he had loved her, it was a   
"normal" love. Something that happened more often. Maybe the way Xander and Anya   
loved each other. After he'd been killed, Buffy's grief had been long and deep.   
He left a hole in her life, but she didn't look for another husband after him,   
although she was still smashing. The lovers she'd had, none of them had ever   
touched her deeply. Maybe she just decided it was enough pain for her.  
  
And then her two children had died. Children, she had to laugh at that thought.  
They'd been both in their forties, but children were always your children no  
matter how old they were. Willow had asked Buffy if she didn't want to contact  
Angel, but her friend had only smiled and said he would always be with her.   
Only that moment the witch had realised how deep their love went.  
  
"Hey," a voice startled her and she looked at Angel.  
  
"Good Morning," she smiled. "You fell asleep I suppose."  
  
"Yeah," he moved so that he was in a sitting position and his eyes fell on the  
letter that laid on the carpet. Picking it up, he gazed at Willow, "You know  
what's inside of this you said."  
  
"Only the parts regarding Anne," she took a seat opposite to him. "I'm sure   
there are some private lines as well."  
  
He just nodded and struggled to keep his emotions in check, "I cannot say what   
it means to me, to have it," his voice was hoarse.  
  
"I understand," she smiled again.  
  
"I..," he began, but his throat closed up. Clearing it, he tried again, "Is   
there ... I mean, do you have a picture of her?"  
  
"A picture," she looked at him quizzically, "Oh you mean of Buffy. Sure, tons   
of them."  
  
"No," he raised a hand when she was about to get up, "Not any picture. I would  
... I want to see her. How she looked as an old woman. I've always pictured her  
as an old woman, with wrinkles and all," a little bit embarrassed he broke off.  
  
An brilliant smile lightened Willow's features. "Of course," she nodded and  
stood. Walking over to a bookshelf she took a framed picture and handed it to  
Angel, "That's taken a year ago," she smiled proudly, "when my great-grandchild  
was baptised."  
  
"A great-grandchild, huh?" He had to smile at that thought. But couldn't talk  
anymore when his eyes fell on the picture in his hand. Her face wore a  
brilliant smile, her eyes were shining and looking with love at the little baby   
in her arms. Buffy had been 79 when the picture had been taken and she'd never  
looked more beautiful. In awe his finger traced the lines of her body and   
stayed for a moment on her face. "She's beautiful," he whispered.  
  
"Yes, she always was," Willow affirmed. "There was such a power in her. So much  
life...," her voice broke. "I'm sorry," she said and wiped a tear away. "I   
still can't believe she's gone."  
  
"I know the feeling," he replied, his eyes still on the picture. "Could I ... I  
mean ... is it possible to get a copy of this."  
  
"Of course," she took the frame again and put it back on the shelf. "I'll take   
it to the photo-shop and they'll copy it."  
  
"Thanks," he just said. After a moment of silence he changed the subject,   
"Where will the memorial service be held?"  
  
"The mansion," she replied simply and held his gaze. "She would have wanted it,  
you know. I'm going to get us some coffee," she said and disappeared in the  
kitchen.  
  
"Yes," he whispered. Running a hand over his face, he tried to get a hold on   
his emotions. The mansion. That meant it still existed. A building full of   
memories, full of love, of pain, of forbidden passion. A vampire and a slayer in   
love, desperately, passionately in love. Against all odds thrown at each other by fate, but not allowed to live it, but not able to deny it either. The mansion, where she'd sent him to hell, where her love had brought him back, where she'd nursed him back to his full strength, where she'd slept in his arms, where they had laughed together, he'd comforted her, held her ... there was so much he remembered now. Almost too much.  
  
He wasn't entirely sure if he would be able to go through with it. He'd never  
been there again after he'd left Sunnydale. And now he would be going there   
again to say good bye to Buffy.  
  
"There we are," Willow entered the room with a tray loaded with coffee and a  
doughnut for her and interrupted the train of his thoughts.  
  
"Who will be there? Will I know anyone but you?," Angel wanted to know.  
  
"I don't think so. My daughter will come tonight, she's Buffy's god-child. You  
remember Alicia?"  
  
"Yes," he nodded. "She was an bright teenager the last time I met her."  
  
She had to laugh at that, "And now she's a granny herself. Thinking back it  
seems as though time has been racing."  
  
"It just seems that way," Angel replied, his voice grave. "They were long   
years."  
  
"Yeah," she admitted after a moment. "Especially my last without Oz." She   
sighed, "I miss him, but I suppose I don't have to tell you. You understand."  
  
"Oh yes," he took his mug and sipped at his coffee. "When will I see her?"  
  
"Anne?," Willow asked and when he nodded she watched his face for a moment.  
"She'll be here at noon. I phoned her last night after ... well, after I   
blurted everything out. Thinking about it, I suppose it wasn't that bad. Maybe  
it's better you'll see her before the memorial service."  
  
The vampire looked puzzled, "Why?"  
  
Her eyes took on a mysterious expression, "Just wait and see."  
  
End Chapter 3.  
  



	4. The Grand-Daughter

Chapter Four: The Grand-Daughter  
  
  
It wasn't yet noon when the front door was opened and slammed shut in a second.  
Like a whirlwind, a young girl entered Willow's home. Her brown hair long and  
flowing, her movements flawless and very female. "Auntie Willow," she cried   
when she entered the living-room and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a   
stranger sitting on the sofa. "Hi," she said with a sheepish smile.  
  
Angel couldn't think and he was glad he didn't have to breathe. He had to blink  
at the girl standing right in front of him to clear the haze in his mind. He  
didn't even realize that Willow had come into the room as well.  
  
"Anne, my darling," she greeted the girl. "I'm so glad you could come."  
  
"Me too," she raised an eyebrow at the old woman who she loved as if she were  
family. "Auntie Willow, do you secretly entertain young lovers?" A wicked  
expression was in her eyes.  
  
The witch playfully hit her shoulder, "Anne. You're teasing me again. This is a  
good friend of mine. His name is Angel. Angel this is Anne, Buffy's  
grand-daughter." At the mention of the ex-slayer's name the laughter left the  
girl's eyes and was replaced by grief. It had been four weeks since the  
plane-crash, but the wound from losing her parents and her grand-mother was   
very raw. She had to admit that she'd been closer to her grand-mother than to her parents and that her loss was hurting even more, although Willow did her best to help her through this.  
  
She looked at the stranger who was now standing and extended a hand, "Hi,   
Angel."  
  
He didn't move, only stared at her. Thousands of emotions ran through him and   
he knew he had to get out of there. Now. Clearing his throat he looked at Willow, "I'm sorry, I really need to feed," he said with a cracking voice and without a further glance at the girl he was down the stairs.  
  
"Well, I'd say...," Anne turned to gaze at the stairs where he'd disappeared.   
"I really didn't mean it when I said he was your lover. Geez doesn't he   
understand a joke?"  
  
Willow took the girl's arm and pulled her to the sofas, "Come on, my sweet,  
there's a lot I have to tell you." She sighed loudly, "I ... God, this is so  
hard."  
  
"Auntie Willow, are you ill? Please don't tell me you're going to die. I  
couldn't face another...," her voice was sounding panicked.  
  
"No, no," the witch quickly assured her. "I'm fine. It's about you and Buffy   
and Angel. There are lots of things you don't know. Promise you will listen and   
not interrupt?"  
  
"Sure," Anne said eagerly, not really understanding what was going on, but  
wanting to know everything.  
  
"Alright, my love, did you ever hear about vampires...," Willow began.  
  
*****  
  
Barely reaching the basement Angel sank to the floor, pulled his knees to his  
chest and rested his forehead on them. This was more than he could handle. He   
couldn't have stayed another minute in the same room. She had been old and she  
was dead and now she'd been standing in front of him.  
  
The rational part of his mind knew it was Anne. But his whole being screamed  
Buffy. Was it another foul play of fate to make her like her grand-mother's   
twin, he wondered? Sure her hair was dark and longer and curlier, but the rest.   
She had the same body, the same face and most importantly the same eyes. Those   
hazel eyes he saw whenever he thought of her.  
  
For a moment it had been as if Buffy had been walking in. Young, vibrant and so  
close to touch. But she wasn't Buffy, not Buffy, not her, his mind repeated   
again and again.  
  
How could two beings be so alike? Buffy had only been her grand-mother, dammit.  
She'd only given a quarter of her genes, but obviously the ones that mattered.  
She even smiled like her. To see Anne like this was pure agony and pure  
pleasure at the same time. It was as if Buffy'd been sent back to him, he could  
look at her and imagine her, but that was where the pleasure stopped. Because   
she wasn't Buffy. She was Anne. With her own personality, her own dreams and her   
own life that didn't include him, well not in any other way than as her   
protector. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Because she wasn't Buffy.  
  
He knew it for certain. The soul in this body was different. This was Anne.  
And he had to get away from her. He knew he couldn't stand it, couldn't stand  
looking at her face in another person. But then his hand reached in his pocket  
and found the letter. He had no choice in this, as it was so often in his life.  
Of course he would protect her, when it came to Buffy there'd never been a  
choice.  
  
*****  
  
"Wow," Anne looked at Willow in awe and leaned back, "This is some   
information."  
  
"Yeah," the witch tiredly rubbed her eyes.  
  
"So this vampire, Angel, the one down in your basement was Granny's first," she  
blushed slightly, "you know."  
  
"Yes," Willow confirmed and her lips twitched. "They loved each other very   
much. So very much and didn't have a chance to live it."  
  
"Star-crossed lovers," Anne sighed loudly, then suddenly frowned, "Granny never  
talked about him."  
  
"I know," Willow sighed again, "but how should she? I mean bringing him up   
she'd have had to explain more and frankly I think it just was too painful for   
her to talk about him at all." She studied the girl's face for a moment, then   
asked, "The fact that you're going to be the slayer doesn't give you the   
wiggins?"  
  
"No," Anne shook her head, "strange isn't it. You told me Granny freaked about  
it, but maybe it's because he's here and he already protected her for such a   
long time." She shrugged, "I don't know. Wow, he really is a vampire."  
  
Willow had to chuckle at the way she had been saying this, "You should've seen  
your Grandma when she found out. She was shell-shocked. He'd changed into what  
she called his "game-face" while they were kissing."  
  
"Ewwww," Anne shuddered at that picture.  
  
"It wasn't really like that," the witch gave the girl a smile. "Later we  
discovered that he would change automatically when his emotions ran too high.   
It was actually an expression of his deep feelings for her. After a while Buffy  
didn't mind it at all. She even once told me she kissed him deliberately. He'd  
always been so ashamed for what he was. With having his soul and all he  
resented the fact that he was a vampire at the same time."  
  
Suddenly something dawned in Anne, "So Spike's a vampire as well. I always  
wondered, why he slept downstairs and never was around in Sunlight. Does he   
have a soul too?"  
  
"No," came a voice from the doorway and startled them. Angel looked at the two  
women, "Spike's not like me."  
  
"No, he's not like Angel," Willow affirmed. "He is still an evil vampire, but  
many years ago someone caught him and they planted a chip in his head. As a  
result he can't harm humans anymore."  
  
"I'm sorry that I left like that before," the dark-haired vampire said ignoring  
the witch's words. "It just," his eyes were watery, "you're so much like her.   
You look like Buffy when she was young."  
  
"I know," Anne nodded. "She showed me her pictures some time ago. I could   
hardly believe it. When Willow told me about ... well, about your history I  
understood."  
  
Angel nodded at that and sat down on a chair and gazed at the former red-head,  
"Did you," he cleared his throat again, still not fully master of his emotions,  
"did you tell her ..."  
  
"Yes," the witch folded her hands in her lap, "She knows that she's going to be  
the slayer and that you're meant to help her."  
  
"I've actually never seen a vampire before," she frowned, "no I have. Spike.   
But I never guessed he was one. Grandma was very protective it seems. She never   
told us. Mom didn't have a clue either." Suddenly her eyes watered, "I'm sorry,"   
she apologized quickly. "I wonder how much time it needs I can talk about them  
without beginning to cry."  
  
"It's okay," Angel said softly and looked at her.  
  
Still sniffling a bit, she gave him a shaky smile, "You have beautiful eyes,"   
she said without warning and blushed furiously. "Sorry, I don't even know where   
this comes from."  
  
He couldn't help but grin at her and he could hear Willow giggle. "I can live  
with it."  
  
"Sure," she said gravely. "You've certainly heard it before."  
  
"It came up once or twice," he joked. "I actually can't remember them. So I   
have to take your word for it."  
  
"Oh yes, no reflection, Aunt Willow told me," she said knowingly. "Isn't that  
strange. I mean, how do you shave."  
  
Now the witch laughed out loud, "I asked that once too."  
  
"You did?," Anne smiled. "Yeah, well, it's an interesting question."  
  
"Practice," Angel said and grinned. "Although I was glad when the electric   
razors were introduced. It's much more bloodless."  
  
"Oh Angel," Willow said between tears, she'd laughed so hard, "I really did  
expect anything. But I never thought we would sit in my living-room and laugh   
at your jokes. It's so good to have you back."  
  
End Chapter 4.  



	5. The Mansion

Chapter Five: The Mansion  
  
  
The mansion was the same as he remembered. Angel stood in the doorway and   
looked into the great hall. The furniture was missing of course and it was older   
but for him it was the same. The house he'd called his home for a short time   
after his return from hell. Actually it had been almost a year, but for a vampire that meant nothing. For Angel it meant everything. Sure, he'd made love to Buffy before he went to hell and yet they'd never been closer than they had been in this building.  
  
They'd shared so many things. Although they had been forced to keep their hands  
off each other their souls had been touching each and every second. Here he had  
held her the day she thought she'd lost her slayer powers. Maybe it had been   
the day for her to realize that she couldn't escape her fate because her   
conscience wouldn't let her. Here she'd come to him trying to get into his head   
to deal with her jealousy towards Faith. He had to laugh at that. Faith was a   
good friend after she'd come out of prison, but for the things that mattered she   
couldn't have held a candle to Buffy. Not for him that was.  
  
Someone had been here. There were flowers everywhere and they'd prepared the  
building for a gathering. A noise startled him and he turned around. "Anne," he  
said to the girl who was coming up behind him.  
  
"Angel," she gave him a shaky smile and angrily wiped a tear away that rolled  
down her cheek, "I'm SO not looking forward to this. I don't want to listen to  
people talking about them. They're dead and gone."  
  
He studied her face for a long time. She missed her parents and her   
grand-mother and reacted the way many people did, with anger. For the first time   
daring he reached out a hand and took hers. Relieved he realised that there   
wasn't any electricity between them, no rush of passion was running through his   
veins. Maybe he would be able to help her after all. "I know you feel as if   
they've betrayed you by leaving like this. But you will never be able to let them go as long as you're angry with them. Only the good memories make it bearable."  
  
"So you're just going to remember the good times and let my Grandma go. And I  
thought you loved her," she shouted pulling her hand away from him.  
  
Abruptly he turned away and his hands clenched into fists, "No," he hissed   
through gritted teeth. "But that's different."  
  
Immediately feeling guilty, she cautiously touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I  
didn't mean to hurt you. I think," she gave him a sheepish smile when he turned  
around to face her again, "I'm just beginning to learn what she meant to you.  
It's hard to understand. You're so young and ... well, Granny was old."  
  
"She was a human being," he replied simply.  
  
"Yes," she nodded and seemed to understand the deep meaning behind his words.  
"And you're not really young."  
  
"No," a laugh escaped his throat, "not really. I'm actually over 300 years   
old."  
  
Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, "Oh my ..., " she breathed. "So you   
could be her grand-dad," she had to grin at her idea.  
  
"Add some greats and you might be right," he smiled and took a strand of her   
hair in his hand, "Only your hair is different."  
  
"It's my father's," she told him. "He had dark hair."  
  
"I saw your mother when she was a little baby. She was very sweet."  
  
Immediately she rolled her eyes, "My mom and sweet. Don't even go there.   
Usually she was only rules and orders like Anne do this or leave that." Again  
tears welled up. "God," she wiped them away, "I miss her and dad and most of  
all I miss Grandma."  
  
"I know the feeling," Angel replied and pulled her into a brotherly embrace.  
  
"It isn't fair," she sobbed. "They were so young. Grandma wasn't really of  
course," she added, when she pulled back. "But she wasn't ill or anything. I  
don't understand why this happened."  
  
The vampire looked at her with compassionate eyes. She was an eighteen year old  
girl and dealing with the death of the people closest to her. What could he   
tell her. That death belonged to life. What crap! It wouldn't help her at  
all. And Buffy thought he was able to take care of her. Maybe she'd   
overestimated his abilities. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath he said, "No, it   
isn't fair."  
  
She looked up at him with surprise in her eyes, "Do you know that you're the  
first to say such a thing. My aunts, well they aren't my real aunts, but   
Willow, Alicia or Candice, that's Alicia's daughter, they say it's just fate. It  
happens and all I can do is accept it."  
  
"They're right," he released her from his arms and stepped back. Seeing a   
flicker of disappointment in her eyes he quickly continued, "But that doesn't  
mean it's fair. But life isn't fair. At least it was never fair to your  
Grandmother or I for that matter. It's just life. Either we accept what it   
throws at us or we'll go insane."  
  
A little bit annoyed she gazed at him, "Do you always sound so wise. Because if  
yes, I'm not sure if I can stand you."  
  
To her utter surprise he began to laugh. It was a deep, genuine sound. In   
seeing her puzzled face, he explained, "That's what your Grandmother always said   
to me, you know."  
  
"She did? Yeah, well Grandma Buffy's always been a clever person."  
  
"Very true," he nodded and sobered immediately. "I miss her too."  
  
"I know," her voice was soft. "It must be torture to love someone like you did,  
but not being allowed to be near her."  
  
"It was," he said thickly, "but I wouldn't trade it for the world."  
  
*  
  
The memorial service started at ten. Willow had arranged it for the night and   
Angel knew it was partly for him, so that he could attend it. Silently he thanked her for it and took his spot in a corner of the building. The service was to be held by a college friend of Willow's, Tara. They'd even been involved for a short time. She was the same age as the witch and the former red-head had told him that she was now a high priestess of a wiccan order. Somehow it really seemed appropriate for her to do this. She knew Buffy and was a supernatural creature like the ex-slayer.  
  
Angel noticed that Anne came to sit between Willow and a young woman who held a  
toddler on her lap. That had to be Candice. Beside the young mother sat   
Willow's daughter Alicia. Both women shared the red hair of the witch, although   
Alicia's resemblance to Oz wasn't anything to be overlooked.  
  
The service started and Tara talked a little bit about Buffy's life and the   
life of her daughter and son-in-law. Then she continued by describing the way  
they'd perished. A machine disorder caused the plane to crash over some field   
in Oregon. There had been no survivors.  
  
Suddenly Angel heard a noise behind him and turned around only to stare at the  
person standing there. His opposite eyed him for a long moment and then simply  
nodded. He didn't say a word not to disturb the ceremony. There weren't many  
people present. Some elderly women who'd known Buffy. Some childhood friends of  
her daughter. And a 40 year old man, whom Willow had introduced as the son of  
Riley Finn from his second marriage, named Ethan. He told Angel that his father  
had loved Buffy very much and he'd always been sad that their marriage hadn't  
worked out.  
  
Angel had just nodded, but said nothing. He didn't want to rob the man's   
illusions. Realising that Buffy would never love him the way he loved her, Riley  
had become very abusive towards the end of their marriage, which had been one   
of the reasons why the judge had given Buffy full custody of her children. Much   
to her relief. She didn't trust the former commando anymore, not to hit them as   
he'd tried to do to her. As soon as he had realised she was too strong to be   
abused that way, he had tortured her with words. Sometimes this was an even more   
effective form of abuse. It certainly was with Buffy, who had had a hard time to  
free herself from him and the insecurities he'd implanted in her mind.  
  
For this Brian, with his charm and almost boyish wit had been the right man for  
her. Of course it broke Angel's heart even more to see she fell for him, but he  
had encouraged her because Brian was good for the slayer. They laughed a lot   
and he could take her mind from Riley and partially even from slaying.  
  
The vampire looked up when he saw Tara lighting scented candles to finish the  
ritual. She summoned the spirits of the dead, to give them their final peace.  
Suddenly an irritated look crossed the wiccan's features and she stilled for a  
moment, exchanging a glance with Willow, who stood up immediately and   
approached the altar they'd set up in the great hall.  
  
He could see them whisper and Willow shook her head. Murmurs were to be heard  
from the people who had attended the service. Then the former red-head turned  
around and gestured Angel to come over. Hesitantly, not really liking the idea  
that everyone would see him now, he approached them.  
  
"What happened?," he demanded in a whisper, ignoring the curious looks.  
  
"Tara is confused, Angel. She summoned the spirits of the dead and there are   
the ones of Faith and her husband, but she can't connect with Buffy. It never  
happened to her before."  
  
The Wicca nodded her head in confirm.  
  
"What does that mean?," Angel wanted to know.  
  
"I don't know," Tara's face wore an expression of helplessness. "I don't   
understand it. Buffy wasn't evil or anything. There is no explanation."  
  
"What do you mean evil?," he narrowed his eyes. "Would there be an explanation   
if she'd been?"  
  
"Technically, yes," the Wicca admitted, "An evil spirit, or evil soul can't be  
summoned. It's never at peace and for this doesn't react to holy summons."  
  
"No," Angel shook his head emphatically and stepped back, anger flashing in his  
eyes, "You're not telling me she isn't at peace. She was the best person I've  
known. She saved mankind more times than we can count." His voice was rising  
slightly during his speech and more curious looks were directed to the three  
persons at the altar.  
  
Soothingly Willow put a hand on the vampire's arm, "No. Of course we don't say  
that. I don't believe it either. But there has to be an explanation for this."  
  
"Then better find it quickly, because I won't listen to this any longer."  
  
"B-but," Tara stuttered and the vampire looked at her. "The p-problem is, we  
can't complete the ritual if I cannot summon her spirit."  
  
"Then fake it. I won't have everyone in this room second-guessing Buffy. I  
won't." His voice was very firm. "Her grand-daughter is here for God's sake."  
  
"B-but," Tara protested weakly.  
  
"Do it," Willow took the vampire's side. "He's right. Complete the ritual. They  
don't understand it anyhow. So finish it and then we'll meet at my house. Anne   
will be staying there for now anyway. Maybe together we can find a way to explain it."  
  
After a moment's hesitation Tara nodded and the vampire and the witch took   
their spots again. Approaching the person who stood in the back like himself  
he thought for a moment and then said, "Come to Willow's house after this. We   
have to talk."  
  
End Chapter 5.  
  
  
  
  



	6. The Messenger

Chapter Six: The Messenger  
  
  
The tension was thick in Willow's living room about two hours later. While the  
old wiccas were sitting side by side on the sofa, both wearing concerned  
expressions, the vampire was pacing the room. Anne on the other hand sat on a  
chair and chewed her thumb-nail, deeply irritated with the things going on   
around her and even more as the others refused to tell her what was going on.  
  
"But he said he would come," Willow asked for the fifth time.  
  
"Yes," Angel snapped. Then he suddenly stopped and looked at her, "Sorry,   
Willow. I have no right to treat you like that."  
  
"It's okay," she smiled. "I would pace too, if I were younger." He couldn't   
help but smile at that. She was still so sweet. "It upsets me deeply," the  
former red-head went on. "I mean this is so unfair. She's done nothing to...,"  
she stopped when they heard a knock at the door. Would demons ever ring a  
bell, she wondered shortly and was about to get up, but Anne was quicker and   
was at the door before Willow could raise.  
  
"Hi, who are you."  
  
"A friend," a male voice was to be heard.  
  
"Let him in," Angel commanded from the living-room. "He's the one we're waiting  
for." When the person stepped into the room, the vampire raised a brow, "good   
to see that some things never change. Your taste in clothes left always something to be desired."  
  
"Now, kiddo," Whistler grinned broadly, "no need to get insulting. I love my  
hat."  
  
"I doubt it's the hat he was referring too," Anne muttered behind him and made  
Angel smile. Whistler wore denims that were two sizes too big and an old   
Hawaiian shirt. His shoes were old and worn ... on the whole he looked ridiculous as ever.  
  
"And the two witches of course," the demon looked at Willow and Tara. "Hi, I'm  
Whistler."  
  
"He's a good demon," Angel explained at the confused expressions of the women.  
"He works for the Powers That Be."  
  
"Oh," Tara's eyes widened, while Willow smiled knowingly.  
  
"Welcome in my house," she greeted him. "I hope you will have an explanation   
for this. You are aware of what happened before, I suppose."  
  
"I am," Whistler replied with a nod.  
  
"Will somebody please tell me what's going on here," Anne shouted annoyed. "And  
what on earth is a good demon? I thought they were evil," she glanced   
accusingly at Willow. The witch hadn't told her that.  
  
With a sigh Willow explained to the young girl what had happened during the   
memorial service. Anne's eyes went wide and filled with tears when the witch was  
finished. "God, that really sucks," she exclaimed angrily. "I mean, Granny was   
a good person, a really good person. This isn't fair either." Shortly her eyes  
fixed on Angel who smiled in return. None of the others understood but they   
didn't ask.  
  
"So would you now explain, what this is about?," the vampire asked impatiently.  
He'd always been annoyed with Whistler's attitude but now he was over that   
stage. He was on the edge.  
  
"It's simple," the demon went over to a cupboard and poured himself a glass of  
Whisky, "Malt, wow, I'm impressed," he glanced at Willow.  
  
"Whistler," Angel roared.  
  
The demon sighed and sipped at his drink, "As I said, it's simple. She isn't at  
peace because her job isn't finished yet," he said matter-of-factly.  
  
"What?," the vampire's voice wore a threatening undertone. Willow was instantly  
alarmed. She didn't like the fact either, but didn't look forward to get her  
living-room trashed because a vampire would try to kill a demon.  
  
"Maybe we should all calm down," she looked at Angel who smiled apologetically  
and then at Whistler. "I really don't need your snappy attitude," she told him.  
  
He raised his hands, "Sorry. Old habits die hard. I know you mourn a friend and  
frankly I miss her too. She was a damned good slayer, our Buffy."  
  
"She was never your Buffy," Angel said through gritted teeth.  
  
"Yeah, well. Where was I, oh yes. Her job isn't finished. There's still some  
business for her." He took the rest of his drink in one quick gulp and   
shuddered slightly. He had to be careful. The vampire wasn't in the mood to play  
games.  
  
"I don't believe this," Angel began to pace again. "She's served them 25 years   
as a slayer, her husband died at the hands of a demon, we...," he paused and  
swallowed hard, "let's not go there. Not to forget that she died in a   
plane-crash and had to burry two of her children during her lifetime. Wasn't that enough already. Why can't they let her rest in peace."  
  
"Because it doesn't work that way," Whistler replied simply. "Don't kill the  
messenger, kiddo. I didn't make these decisions. I'm only telling you."  
  
"But what do they need her spirit for?," Willow wanted to know.  
  
"I can't tell you," the demon poured himself another glass of Whisky. Oh how he  
hated these jobs. He should ask his bosses for a raise.  
  
"Can't or won't?," Angel asked with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Can't," Whistler said. "They didn't tell me. That's not for us to know. These  
things will happen in the future and they won't let us interfere with the   
future. They're still angry for your nice little game, witch." He shot Willow a   
look and she blushed guiltily.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening," Anne who had listened so far, threw her  
hands in the air and fell down in her chair. "It's like waking up in a fucking  
science-fiction movie."  
  
"Anne, mind your words," Willow scolded gently.  
  
"Oh, Auntie," Anne groaned. "We're all adults, well almost, but I haven't been  
raised in the ozone. And you," she pointed at Whistler, "do not only have no   
taste in clothes but are deeply annoying too and think you're sooo funny." She  
rolled her eyes.  
  
"She doesn't like my jokes," Whistler said in fake disappointment, but   
instantly sobered when he saw the look Angel cast at him. "I really wish I could  
tell you more, but I don't know anything. But I do know, that you," he  
glanced at Anne, "will be called as a slayer tomorrow."  
  
"Tomorrow," Willow shot up from the sofa. "B-but I thought it would be on her  
18th birthday."  
  
"Change of plans," the demon informed her and shrugged. "Not my doing. As we   
talk the current slayer in Oregon is going to die by the hands of a master  
vampire."  
  
"Oh God," the witch whispered and lowered herself back down, gratefully smiling  
at Tara who took her hand comfortingly.  
  
"The council is aware of the situation and the new watcher has already arrived   
in Sunnydale," Whistler added.  
  
"Do you want to tell us that the Council knows when their slayers are going to  
die?," Willow asked incredulously.  
  
Her only answer was a nod from the demon. Then he turned to Angel, "As the   
witch already told you, you are meant to stay with her. Help her as you did it   
with her Grandmother. And keep your hands off her."  
  
"Whistler," Angel growled dangerously and took a step towards the demon who  
raised his hands in defence.  
  
"No offence. Sorry, my friend. It's just good advice, you would probably be   
very sorry soon," he said.  
  
"Cut the cryptic crap," the vampire was still trying to control his anger and  
narrowed his eyes again, "I don't know why but I think you know much more than  
you're telling us."  
  
Quickly averting his eyes, Whistler cleared his throat, "No, I already told   
you, I don't."  
  
Exchanging a glance with Willow Angel nodded after a moment, "Alright, we will  
let it be." When he saw the demon sigh in relief he added, "For now."  
  
  
End Chapter 6  
  



	7. The Slayer

Chapter 7: The Slayer  
  
8 months later.  
  
  
"Goody," Anne exclaimed, when a vampire was reduced to dust by her stake. "The  
third for tonight." She glanced at Angel who was standing behind her and   
watching her progress in hand-to-hand combat.  
  
"Not bad," he said after a moment.  
  
"Not bad?," she rolled her eyes, "come on, he was dust in about ten seconds.   
You could say, great Anne."  
  
He gave her a slight smile, "I could, but it wouldn't be true. It was not bad,  
but this was a simple vampire. Quite young too, just raised from the grave. It  
was not a real test. You're already too good for him."  
  
"There you said it. I'm good," she smiled proudly.  
  
"I said you were too good for him," he corrected with a grin. He had grown fond  
of her. Buffy had been right, you couldn't be around her and not like her. And   
as much as she reminded him of her grand-mother there were many things that  
were pure Anne. The way she would roll her eyes, or the way her lips would   
twitch. That was her personality and not her grandmother's.  
  
She narrowed her eyes, "You think you'll lose something if you give me a   
compliment."  
  
"I will give you a compliment when you've earned it," he said earnestly. "And I  
already said it wasn't bad."  
  
She sighed loudly and threw her hands in the air, "Fine, fine. But one day you  
will tell me I was good. I promise you that much."  
  
He chuckled and followed her through the dark cemetery. As Whistler had told   
them Anne had been called the day after the memorial service. The new watcher's   
name was Darren Elliot, a man in his 40's who wasn't what they'd expected. To   
their surprise he was a bit like Giles. Open-minded and interested in everything   
Willow and Angel had told him. He was even relieved to hear that Anne already   
knew about her duties. He'd heard about Buffy, read some of her slayer diaries   
and seemed very impressed by her career as a slayer.  
  
He gladly agreed to Angel helping Anne, being aware of Angel's role in Buffy's  
life. With gratitude he took the vampire's offer to train the new slayer in  
hand-to-hand combat, it would save him many bruises and pain. He also treasured  
Angel's and Willow's knowledge about prophecies, demons and was more than   
slightly interested in the former red-head's wiccan qualities.   
  
All in all he was the best thing that could've happened to Anne. The only thing that was different in him was the fact that he was married. His wife, Ellen, had been a watcher in training when he'd met her. Now she was supporting her husband, and as a result the slayer in any way possible. Over the eight months they'd become an interesting group that had their headquarters in Willow's house as the witch was old and not looking forward to meeting somewhere else.  
  
"Angel," Anne interrupted his thoughts, "did you ever patrol with Buffy like  
this?" The girl was more and more referring to her Grandmother as Buffy now.  
  
"Yes," he chuckled, "very often actually."  
  
"Willow said you'd have been kissing then."  
  
The vampire had to clear his throat, "Well..,"  
  
"Oh don't be shy," she teased. "I mean I'm over 18 now. I can talk about these  
things."  
  
"That's not what I mean. I just think it's a bit too private."  
  
"Oh, Angel," she groaned, "You're no fun." She would never get used to his   
quiet and cryptic attitude she decided. Although it gave him that mystical air   
around him. If he'd have been human, the girls would've beaten each other to be   
near him.  
  
He chuckled again, "I'm not here for your fun," he reminded her.  
  
Sighing loudly, she stopped, "I know. Believe me, I know. You're here to annoy   
me with your comments about my slaying or your cryptic talks. Or to interrupt me   
in the middle of something nice, like say dancing with a really hot guy at my  
favourite club."  
  
"Somehow this all sounds too familiar," he muttered, but she'd heard him.  
  
"So Buffy was the same. You annoyed her too, there you see. Don't you think   
it's time to learn and grow up. I mean hey, it's been more than sixty years."  
  
Instantly his good mood was gone, the teasing gleam replaced by the well known  
deep grief and Anne realised she'd made a fault. Reaching out with her hand she  
didn't dare to touch him, "I'm sorry. I know that you don't feel like this. For  
you she's still alive, isn't she?"  
  
"Yes," he replied hoarsely.  
  
"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly.  
  
"I know," he looked at her, "it's not your fault, Anne. It's just ...," he  
trailed off unable to find the right words to explain his feelings.  
  
"You miss her so much," she finished for him and could see the surprise in his  
eyes as if he couldn't believe her being so sensitive. "I've never been in   
love, you know," she said after a moment, "I had a crush here and there but that  
doesn't mean I'm some selfish brat."  
  
"I know that," he replied quickly and then took a deep breath, "Now, maybe we  
should go back to Willow. Dermot has promised to come over."  
  
"Dermot," she groaned.  
  
"He is alright."  
  
"I know," she sighed. "From what Willow told me it could've been worse, but he   
is soooo old." She heard the vampire chuckle beside her and grinned, "I know,   
you're older, but you don't look that way. That makes the whole difference. You  
might be 300, but when my friends at school see me with you they think you're   
my incredibly hot boyfriend, not some sort of," she threw her hands in the air,   
"I don't even know how to describe him."  
  
"Dermot is a lot like Giles," he told her. "And he *is* alright. He always   
tries to give you enough space to enjoy the life of a teenager."  
  
"Now you're lecturing me again," she groaned. "What have I done to earn this?  
Willow with her soft eyes that can kill with a glance, Dermot with his books   
and on top of all this you, who goes all wise on me." Suddenly a vampire jumped   
from behind the bushes and approached them with a growl. Anne stopped and reached behind her back to produce a stake, "Hey teeth-boy, just the distraction I need."  
  
*  
  
When they entered the house half an hour later they found Dermot, Ellen and  
Willow deep in conversation, but they all looked up when they saw Anne and the  
vampire.  
  
"Four vamps tonight," the slayer told her watcher, who raised his brows at the  
witch.  
  
"It's more than usual," he then said glancing back at the girl.  
  
She just shrugged, "Well, four isn't that bad. But yeah, usually I've got one   
or two."  
  
"Anything out of the ordinary," Dermot's question was directed towards Angel.  
  
"No," the vampire replied but was instantly alarmed by the look in the watcher's eyes.  
  
"We're not sure," Willow said with a sigh and gestured to Angel and Anne to   
help themselves to tea or coffee. She took a book and handed it over to Angel.   
"Read page 300 of this. It says something like a new demon coming, a dark age is   
before us ... all quite mysterious." She took the glasses from her nose and   
rubbed her eyes. The gesture was so much like Giles that Angel had to smile. He   
wouldn't have dreamt he'd ever think about Giles by looking at Willow.  
  
"So you're going to tell me we have to face another prophecy or even an   
Armageddon?" Anne let herself fall in one chair and smiled at them unconcernedly. "Well, too bad for the demons. We might have to kill them."  
  
"Your flippant attitude isn't helping," Dermot looked at her sternly.  
  
"Yeah, but always thinking about the worst isn't either, right?", she shot   
back.  
  
"Stop it you two," Willow gave both her resolve face. "We're researching a  
prophecy here and it's serious. Now," she gazed at the vampire. "Angel, what do  
you think about the text."  
  
"Hmmm," the vampire looked up. "Oh sorry. Yes, you are right, it's a strange  
prophecy. Very unclear." He shook his head, "why didn't they ever try to write   
it the way they think it's going to be." He sighed loudly and leaned his tall  
frame to the wall. He'd never been fond of research and silently he longed for   
a messenger like Doyle or Cordelia. Everything had been so much easier if one   
knew what to look for. "It says something about an Armageddon, but doesn't give   
the slightest hint for a date. There's only a mention of some demon coming to   
town before and then there's a passage I don't understand." He shook his head   
again and quoted, " 'The demon will challenge the slayer and after the slayer is   
defeated she will be stronger to avoid the Armageddon.' Can you explain that?"  
  
Dermot sighed as well, "No," he drew a hand through his dark hair with the   
silver strands in-between and exchanged a loving smile with his wife. "That's the passage that really bugs me." He heard Anne laugh at his expression and grinned inwardly. He would never tell her about his wild young years, but he hadn't always been a watcher in a suit. "How can a slayer be defeated and then be stronger?" He made a helpless gesture with his hand and took another sip from his tea.  
  
"Look," Anne gazed at the people in the room. "It seems as if we won't find out  
anything tonight. Is it alright for me to just go to my bed? I'm really beat."  
She glanced at the clock, no wonder she thought, it was after midnight.  
  
"Of course," Willow gave her a smile. "Sleep tight."  
  
"Yeah. You too." And with this she was out of the room.  
  
The remaining people and the vampire exchanged concerned glances, until Dermot  
finally voiced their thoughts, "Whatever it means, I don't like it. We need to  
know more about it. I don't like the idea of sending my slayer into a battle   
like this." He looked at Angel, "Whatever backup she might have. But I intend to   
keep her alive and safe."  
  
"But I'm really lost here. I mean, 'defeated', does that mean the slayer is   
going to die? And then this part about being stronger afterwards," Willow shook   
her head. "Maybe she's going to experience something like Buffy. She died too -  
shortly. She was revived, but she wasn't really stronger afterwards. Just  
horribly scared for a while."  
  
"Hopefully not," Angel said after a moment of thinking. "Because I've still got  
no breath and Xander isn't around anymore."  
  
Willow studied the vampire's face for a moment. He was really grateful to her  
childhood friend for saving Buffy's life. God, if Xander could've heard it, he  
would have burst with pride, she thought. Sure, he'd hated Angel for a while,  
resented him afterwards, but silently he'd admired him, although he would've  
never told anyone. "No, Xander isn't around anymore," she then said with  
a heavy sigh.  
  
End Chapter 7.  



	8. The Morah

Chapter 8: The Morah  
  
4 weeks later  
  
  
Anne was shivering in the cold breeze in the cemetery. They had all been afraid  
around her for days. She didn't know why, they'd found out more about that  
special demon the prophecy was referring to and now she and Angel waited  
to face this special creature.  
  
She wasn't afraid. Why should she be? There was Angel with her and he would   
take care of her, as he'd done throughout the last nine months. She understood   
why her grandmother had been relying on him so much. He was completely reliable.   
Although she would never understand Buffy's attraction towards him. Sure, he was   
a hottie, but he was soooo old and a vampire. The thought of being with a vampire intimately made her shudder.  
  
Not that he'd ever tried anything. He hadn't. He was like the older brother,  
always looking out for her, holding her when she was frustrated, sometimes  
also gently scolding her. She liked him. A lot actually, but she wasn't  
attracted to him. Luke on the other hand. A little sigh escaped her mouth. Luke  
was in college, two years her senior he was deadly attractive and she thought  
about him being the one to introduce her to carnal pleasures. She was 18 after   
all and in her eyes it was time. Most of her friends talked about their   
boyfriends and what they did with them, while she'd always shrug and avoid the   
subject as far as possible. Being the slayer wasn't good for a teenager's   
love-life.  
  
"Are you ready," Angel's voice interrupted her and turned to look at him.  
  
"Of course," she played with the stake in her hand. With Angel training her   
she'd become better and better. She was strong, a little bit taller than Buffy,   
Angel had told her and with time she wanted to become as good as her   
grand-mother. "Let this ugly demon come." She could see him smile at her words.   
Often she wondered how often he thought about Buffy when he looked like this.   
Would he dream of her? And how were his dreams? It must have been interesting to   
see them together. Like watching a love right out of one of these sappy novels.   
Willow read them sometimes, she'd caught her with one of the books one evening.  
  
Did she make him remember? He said she looked like Buffy. She knew it from  
pictures, but Angel certainly saw more. He could see behind the facade. Was   
there more of Buffy inside of her. Were there some gestures or things she said   
that brought memories back to him?  
  
"I can hear something," the vampire suddenly warned her.  
  
"Me too," she nodded and took a fighting-stance. Only a second later it was  
right in front of her. Dermott had told her it would be a strong Morah-demon.  
They were messengers of evil, sure sign of an upcoming darkness.  
  
Without a warning the Morah attacked. It was a furious battle, Angel and Anne  
fighting side by side. The demon was strong and a trained fighter. Landing a  
roundhouse kick on his stomach, Anne quickly glanced at Angel, who was laying   
on the ground and shaking his head to get the daze out of it. The demon had   
smashed his head right into a trunk. "You okay?," she asked concerned.  
  
"Fine, try to smash the jewel in it's head" he groaned. "Look out," he shouted  
and only the last minute she saw the demon's sword falling down on her. She  
rolled aside and grinned.  
  
"Not fast enough, my ugly friend. Why on earth do all the demons have to be so  
ugly? Well at least the gem is pretty, but it'll be gone soon."  
  
"A darkness is coming," the Morah announced and attacked again.  
  
"Sure," she replied a bit breathless and landed another kick on his jaw. "For   
you anyway, that's certain."  
  
With lightning speed the demon suddenly grabbed her neck and pressed on her  
windpipe, making her choke. "You're dead slayer," it hissed and then he  
smashed her into a headstone.  
  
With horror in his eyes Angel realised that she didn't move anymore. He wanted   
to check on her, but the demon was attacking him now. "Vampire," it hissed.  
  
Angel rolled away and grabbed the sword that had fallen from Anne's hands and  
with one swift movement he smashed the jewel of the upcoming Morah. It  
shuddered and died in an instant.  
  
On his knees the vampire crawled over to the still unconscious girl laying on   
the ground, "Anne," his panic stricken voice was hoarse. "Oh God, Anne. Please."   
In an instant he realised she wasn't breathing, yet he could feel a faint pulse   
at her wrist. So she wasn't dead, but she needed CPR. Like a flash he though of  
Xander and Buffy in the caves. He couldn't give her air, but he could very well  
massage her chest. So he tore her jacket away and began to pump on her ribs  
rhythmically with both his hands. "Breathe," he ordered desperately, "come on,  
Anne. Breathe. You're strong, you can do that." Buffy had asked him to take   
care of her and he would do that. He wouldn't disappoint her.  
  
First there was no reaction, but then suddenly her eyes flew open and she   
sucked a deep breath. He almost collapsed with relief, "Anne," tears welled up in his eyes.  
  
For what seemed minutes she stared at him as if she'd never seen him before,   
then she began to cough, "Oh God," she groaned hoarsely, "Death really sucks. I   
hate that." A frown appeared on her forehead as if she tried to remember   
something, but it was gone soon. When she tried to sit up, Angel gave her a   
concerned glance.  
  
"Easy, Anne. Does it hurt?"  
  
"Like hell," she reached for her head but was relieved when she couldn't find   
any blood. "It was strong."  
  
"Yes. Very strong. Morah's are strong. I once met one. Your Grandmother and I  
fought it," he said with a slight smile. The Buffy-smile Anne called it. He   
stood up and held out his hand.  
  
With a smile she took it and got up. They stood near to each other for a moment  
and Angel could feel his mouth go dry. He was still holding onto her hand and  
instantly let go of her as if he'd burnt himself. What the hell was going on  
here, he thought.  
  
"Are you alright?," she asked seeing him frown at her. "Do you hurt?"  
  
"No," he replied after a moment and stepped back desperately hoping she   
wouldn't notice his instant erection. "I'm fine," he gave her a smile, although   
he felt not at all like it. "And you?", he asked but didn't listen to her answer. He was too busy trying to understand what was going on with him. He knew that extreme situations could trigger extreme reactions but this? It had to be their life and death situation. There was no other explanation for his sudden desire for this girl. She hadn't even attracted him until now. Shaking his head in disbelief and frustration he looked at her again. "We should go back. I'm sure they're waiting for us."  
  
"Sure," she nodded and began to walk.  
  
Was there anything different about her he wondered and watched her while they  
made their way to Willow's house. Did she move differently? No, he couldn't see  
anything. Then why on earth did he feel different all of a sudden. Maybe   
because he thought her dead and had thought about Buffy and how she'd feel about   
his failure to protect her. Yes, that had to be the reason. The relief that she  
wasn't dead after all.  
  
"Angel?," she asked and he felt it again. God, get a hold on yourself, he   
scolded inwardly.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What did he mean about the darkness coming. What do you think?" Suddenly she  
stopped and frowned. Her eyes wore an expression of utter confusion.  
  
He stopped as well and gazed at her, "What?"  
  
"I...," she raised her head again, "I don't know. There was something, a sudden  
picture in my head. I didn't understand it, but.."  
  
"Maybe it's a slayer-feeling. Slayers - some of them - have prophetic dreams   
and some of them can be psychic," he explained.  
  
"No," she shook her head, "It was a ...," she shook her head again and suddenly  
smiled, "It's gone now." She took a deep breath. "Maybe because that demon  
smashed me into the headstone."  
  
"Probably," he gave her a smile. Hell, he wanted to touch her and hold her.   
What was going on? This question repeated again and again in his head. Something   
had changed. But what? Could there be something like an instant attraction after   
more than nine months? He'd never experienced something like this. When he was   
attracted to woman it had always been instantly and strong. So why did it happen   
now and with Anne of all possible women? And more importantly what could he do   
about it. He would never, not ever, betray Buffy. And certainly not with her   
grand-daughter. Never. He had to get a hold on himself. The soon the better.  
  
He couldn't just run away. That would be the coward's way, but he wasn't a  
coward. Had never been one. And for God's sake an over 300 year old vampire   
would find a solution to this ... this mess. Maybe he could ask Willow ... but   
no, he would never tell Willow that he had these kinds of feelings for Buffy's   
grand-daughter. And maybe, just maybe it would go away after a good night's rest, when everyone was at ease again and relaxed. Yes a certain part of his should relax soon, he thought and groaned inwardly.  
  
He was more than glad when they reached Willow's house and Anne went to bed   
after some minutes. They discussed the Morah demon for some time and then decided that they would meet again the day after tomorrow to talk about everything and to decide what to do next. That left Angel alone in the basement of Willow's house with his thoughts, his own personal demons and a long, cold shower.  
  
End Chapter 8.  



	9. The Vampire

Chapter 9: The Vampire  
  
Angel didn't sleep at all that night. He was lying awake in his bed in Willow's  
basement and his thoughts were running wild. The hope he would forget about it  
after a while was a false one. He could only think of her. The way she moved,   
the way she looked at him, the way she smelled ... she smelled? He stopped and a   
sudden frown appeared on his forehead. Had there been something different in the   
way she smelled?  
  
Shaking his head, he put his arm over his eyes and groaned. It was already   
sunrise and still he hadn't found a solution for this problem. How was he   
supposed to act around her now. He could clearly remember the feeling of her hand in his. The warmth that had instantly gone through his body. The boiling feeling in his veins, the reactions of his loins. He groaned again. Maybe it was another way to test him. His self-control that was. Sure he had lots of it, you didn't become a more then 300 year old vampire without self-control, at least not one with a soul. His alter ego hadn't had very much self-control, but the ensouled version had to learn a lot about it.  
  
He turned in his bed and came to lie on his left side. He could feel the sun  
outside. Maybe he should just get up and step into it. He was pitiful. There   
was no other way for a person who lusted after the grand-daughter of the love of   
his life. Pitiful and disgusting. That's what he was.  
  
Everything had been fine. They'd worked together smoothly. She'd trained with  
him, they had been near to each other with her body sweaty, panting with the  
exercise and not for one second had he felt anything but brotherly for her and   
now everything had changed. With the attack of a simple demon his world was in   
turmoil. Groaning again he buried his face in his pillows. He would just sleep   
through the day and hope against hope that everything would be better tonight.  
  
*****  
  
Willow instantly noticed the dark shadows under Anne's eyes when she entered   
the living-room in the morning. It was Saturday and for that no school.  
  
"Dearie," she greeted the girl she loved like her own, "didn't you sleep well?"  
  
Anne yawned and looked at the witch, "No. It was so strange. I had dreams ...  
strange dreams."  
  
Willow was instantly alarmed, "Prophetic dreams?"  
  
The slayer groaned, "Now you sound like Angel," she said and to her own   
distress she felt something warm in her stomach at mentioning his name. First the dreams and now... she shook her head. "He told me some slayers had prophetic   
dreams and some were psychic." Seeing the former red-head's puzzled gaze she   
explained, "Yesterday, you know. When we went home, after, well after the events   
with the Morah demon, I suddenly had pictures in my head. But I couldn't get a   
hold on them. They were gone so quickly that I didn't know what they meant." She   
paused and looked at Willow, then added, "Angel was in them." Again that warm,   
tingly feeling inside of her. What the hell was going on?  
  
"Angel?," the witch raised a brow. "And the dreams? What were they about?"  
  
"They weren't clear, you know. Just images, pictures. I saw you in them, but   
you were much younger, Buffy, she was a girl about my age. Angel. Then Xander, I  
think. You know, granny showed me his pictures. And Cordelia, again I think,  
because I can only remember her from when I was very young and she very old   
while in my dreams she was ... well, young. It's irritating. I never had these   
dreams. Do you think it could mean anything?"  
  
Willow thought about it for a moment but then shook her head, "I don't know.  
Maybe it's just a slayer-thing. I mean you almost died yesterday and this might  
have triggered the dreams. The images in your head. Slayers are more   
complicated than you know. Your grand-mother learned a lot with the years."  
  
"It's just ... it confuses me. I'm also scared. What if I lose my mind. What if  
my head injury was worse than we thought?"  
  
To her surprise Willow laughed, "I don't think so." She reached out and touched  
the girl's head. "There isn't even a lump or anything. Slayer healing and all.  
No, I'm sure there is a perfectly normal explanation for the dreams. All we   
have to do is understand them. Maybe you should talk about Dermot with them and   
Angel. Tomorrow when we meet."  
  
"Not tonight?"  
  
"No, not tonight, silly. Remember, Angel's patrolling alone, so that you can go   
to your friend's birthday party?" The witch laughed when she saw Anne's puzzled   
expression.  
  
Then the girl slapped her forehead, "I almost forgot about it. Karen has her  
party today at the Crush. So a free night for little ole' me! Now, I'm starving  
and really need coffee."  
  
"Coffee?" Willow raised her brow. "You're drinking tea, aren't you?"  
  
"Do I? Well," she shrugged. "Now it's coffee. I need the caffeine."  
  
******  
  
"I'm so glad you could make it," Karen said excitedly the same night. "You're  
always so busy and I was afraid you wouldn't come."  
  
"Hey, you're my best friend," Anne playfully punched Karen in her ribs. "I   
would never forget about your birthday party. And I'm glad you like the   
necklace."  
  
"It's lovely. I never knew you were interested in Celtic design," her friend  
said.  
  
The slayer shrugged, "Thought it was nice."  
  
"Hey," Karen took Anne's hand. "I even invited Luke. He's over there. And   
you're right he is sooo hot."  
  
"Hmmm," the slayer made absentmindedly. "What?" She asked when her friend   
punched her playfully. Karen's face wore an irritated expression. Her green eyes   
were puzzled and she was playing with her ebony black hair.  
  
"Luke. The college-guy, you were so crazy about. He's over there," she pointed   
at a corner where a blond young man was joking with some friends. From time to   
time his gaze wandered to the two girls in the opposite corner of the club and   
he was smiling then.  
  
"Oh Luke, yeah," Anne gave her friend an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Didn't  
sleep well last night. Well, yeah, I think Luke is hot. Hmmm. Nice."  
  
"Nice?," Karen's eyes widened in astonishment. "Hey is that the same Anne in  
there who told me he is *the* hottie and that you could lose your virginity to  
him?"  
  
The slayer sighed, "Okay, he is good-looking. So what? And lose my virginity to   
him. Oh, please. There are certainly better opportunities." Was Karen going   
insane. What should be so special about a blonde, college-football player. He was just the average guy. Angel on the other hand ... the thought hit her to the core and she momentarily forgot how to breathe.  
  
"Better opportunities?," the black-haired girl couldn't believe her ears and   
eyes. There was her best friend Anne, who had been completely crazy about Luke   
Warring and now she didn't seem interested at all. There could only be one   
explanation, "You've got another guy."  
  
"What?," Anne's head snapped around. She was still trying to control the rapid  
beating of her heart.  
  
"Oh come on. You were lusting after Luke for months and all of a sudden he's   
like thin air for you. There has to be another." She paused and studied her   
friend's face for a moment. "Is it the guy I saw you with the other night. You   
know the dark, tall one. How did you say was his name? I know it was something   
really unusual."  
  
"Angel," the slayer replied in a dreamy voice. "His name is Angel. He has the  
most beautiful eyes and his hands ...," she trailed off and after a second her  
eyes shot open wide. Oh God, where did that come from. She was thinking about  
Angel - romantically???? - Anne, you're going insane. Maybe something did  
happen to her head last night. Hadn't she thought that thinking about Angel  
intimately was disgusting. But how could she? He was so attractive. His mouth   
was well shaped, his lips full and made for kissing. Kissing???? Inwardly   
groaning she looked into Karen's knowingly smiling face. "What?"  
  
"It is him. Oh, Anne. Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"Tell you what? That's nonsense," she said angrily. "Angel is a friend, a good  
friend. He's like ... like my older brother."  
  
"Sure," Karen grinned and took a sip from her soft drink. "Try to fool   
yourself, but I know better."  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Anne shot her friend a deadly look. Then she tossed her   
head and headed over to Luke. Maybe he would like to dance with her after all.  
  
*****  
  
"How was patrol?," Willow wanted to know, when Angel returned shortly before  
midnight.  
  
"Uneventful," he replied shortly and then sighed. "Seems that vampire activity  
has gone down again after Morah's death yesterday." Trying to sound casually he  
asked, "Anne in bed already?" The truth was, the whole evening he couldn't   
think about anything else but the girl.  
  
The witch had to laugh at that, "Oh God, no."  
  
"Still out then?"  
  
"Of course," Willow grinned, "Angel you're behaving like her father. She's over  
eighteen, she's at her best friend's birthday-party and there's this obviously  
hot guy she's crazy about..."  
  
Angel's head jerked up, "Hot guy?" His eyes were narrowed dangerously. "And you  
think this is alright?" His voice was sharper than intended and he winced  
inwardly at that.  
  
"Oh Angel, Buffy was seventeen when she slept with you."  
  
"That's different," he snapped.  
  
"Oh?," Willow looked at him innocently. "And pray why?"  
  
"We were in love," Angel replied stubbornly. "That's different."  
  
"And why do you think she and Luke aren't," the witch wanted to know. The   
vampire was behaving strangely. Sure, he'd been protective about Anne from the   
start, but now. If she didn't know he was eternally in love with Buffy, she   
would've thought he was jealous. She had to laugh at her strange train of   
thoughts, Angel jealous of Anne, laughable. But still... "Angel?," she gave him a curious look.  
  
"What?," he snapped. "I'm just concerned. Willow, listen. I need to go out for  
a while. I'll be back before sunrise." And with a typical flap of his duster he   
was gone.  
  
The witch leaned back in her seat and tried to understand what was going on.  
  
End Chapter 9.  



	10. The Bronze

Chapter 10: The Bronze  
  
  
Walking the night streets Angel was silently discussing if he was going insane.  
The mere thought of Anne in the arms of another man almost sent him over the  
edge. This had to be insanity. There was no rational explanation for it.  
  
The worst part however had been his dreams. He'd expected to dream about Anne,  
he'd expected lusty, sweaty images but nothing. Instead he had been dreaming  
about Buffy. Holding her, kissing her, laughing with her, making love to her,  
again and again. And even now his soul cried out for her while his body lusted  
after her grand-child. If that wasn't insanity...  
  
He'd experienced wild things, strange things, but this was beyond everything.  
Maybe he projected his longing for Buffy onto Anne. He'd read about these   
things. For some years he'd found pleasure in reading psychology stuff and he   
could remember about projecting feelings. Could this be the explanation?  
  
Could it explain the sudden pang of jealousy, the urge to pummel that unknown  
"hot guy", Anne was lusting for. She shouldn't think about another guy. The   
only guy she should think about ... oh no, not again, he groaned inwardly. Now he didn't even want to allow her to think about another. He wasn't stupid, this   
went beyond mere sexual attraction. And it scared him to death. Or un-death that   
was.  
  
Desperately he tried to find a reason. It couldn't be. Buffy was the love of   
his life. Buffy was the person he would love and cherish until the day he'd   
become dust. He was sure he would die this way one day. He wasn't believing in   
the prophecy Wesley had once translated anymore. It wasn't even important   
anymore, now that Buffy was dead, but there was still Anne, another part of his   
mind whispered. No, no, no, he cried inwardly in desperate denial. He couldn't   
feel this way. No way would he betray his love for Buffy.  
  
Blinking he stopped. He was standing in front of the "Crush", *the* favourite  
club in Sunnydale for young people. Unconsciously his feet had carried him   
here. He shook his head in disbelief. This was even worse than he'd thought. Now   
he was following her.   
  
Stalking.   
  
Be honest with yourself, Angel. You're stalking the girl. Consciously or not, but there is no other word for it. Before his rational part realised it he was in the club. The light was dim and he carefully stayed in the dark corners, surveying the dance-floor and the tables and then his blood began to boil. There she was. In the arms of another. And all his rational thinking, all his desperate denial flew right out of the window. He wanted to rip that guy apart.  
  
And Anne shouldn't enjoy being with this ... this jerk.  
  
"Hey, do you want to dance?"  
  
His head jerked around and he was blindly staring at a red-haired girl in her  
twenties. She was pretty and obviously trying to flirt with him. "No," he   
replied in a sharp voice.  
  
She raised her hands and rolled her eyes, "Alright, alright. No need to get  
angry. It was just a question." Walking away from him, he could hear her   
mutter, "Guys get weirder every day."  
  
He took a deep breath to calm down. The whole situation was spiralling out of  
control quickly. He could feel his hands tremble in distress, when he saw a  
black-haired girl walking over to him. He remembered having seen her with Anne  
the other night. "Hey aren't you Angel?," she asked with a smile.  
  
"Yeah, Karen, right?"  
  
Her eyes lit up, "You remember my name. Anne didn't tell you'd come. It's my  
birthday party, you know. But you're always welcome." She took his arm. "Come   
on, Anne will be pleased. We talked about you", she said with a wink.  
  
Confused Angel looked at her, "What were you talking about me?"  
  
"Never mind," she grinned. "Don't you want to come and sit at our table. Anne  
will be back soon. Come on."  
  
He let her pull him with her, too confused to do anything against it. The girls  
had been talking about him?  
  
"See there they come," Karen pointed towards an approaching couple and only at   
the last second Angel could prevent himself from growling.  
  
"Angel?," Anne's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the vampire sitting at   
the table with her friend.  
  
His reply was a short nod.  
  
"What are you doing here? Did something happen on pat ... I mean is something  
wrong, with Willow?," she corrected herself.  
  
"No," he shook his head. "Everything's fine. I just thought I should give my   
best wishes to your friend on her birthday."  
  
"Thanks," Karen turned towards him and beamed. The light was much better at the  
table and for the first time Angel saw the bracelet on the girl's wrist.  
  
His hand shot out to touch it, "Where did you get that from?," he asked, his  
voice urgent. It was a bracelet with a Claddagh-symbol in it.  
  
"Anne gave it to for my birthday," Karen explained happily. Isn't it beautiful?  
  
"Yes, beautiful," he confirmed but his eyes wandered to Anne. Something was   
very wrong. In all the nine months that he knew her the girl had never ever   
showed any interest for Celtic symbols or history. When he'd told her that he   
came from Ireland, all she'd said had been 'it's a small island somewhere in   
Europe right'. He had laughed at her comment, but now she would give her friend   
something like that? Alright it could be a coincidence, things like these one   
could buy everywhere, but still it was strange.  
  
The slayer looked at the man beside her. He was tall, his hair was fair blonde  
and he had green eyes. "Angel, this is Luke, Luke this is Angel ... my ... uh   
... a friend of my ... uhm ... family."  
  
"Oh," Luke extended a hand to the vampire, "Nice to meet you."  
  
Angel didn't bother to take the offered hand. No way he would touch that man.  
Jealousy was burning hot in his stomach, knotting his gut painfully.  
  
"I just offered Anne to take her home," Luke said with a grin at the girl in   
his arm, ignoring the behaviour of the man he thought being a relative.  
  
Taking her home? No way! "No", Angel almost shouted, then cleared his throat in  
embarrassment. "I mean. There's no need for it. She can come with me."  
  
"But," Luke wanted to argue when Anne put a hand on his arm.  
  
"No, it's alright. Angel can take me. He's going there anyway. Stay and enjoy   
the party. Karen, I really have to go. I'm dead tired." She yawned.  
  
"Sure," Karen gave her a smile. "It was nice to meet you Angel," she said to   
the vampire and her gaze went back and forth between her friend and the   
dark-haired man. Anne could say what she wanted, but there were definitely sparks flying between them.  
  
"You too," the vampire got up and looked at Anne. "Let's go."  
  
The slayer waved a hand at Luke and Karen, "Bye then."  
  
*  
  
They were walking in silence for a while before Anne suddenly said, "Sooo, what  
was the real reason you came tonight?"  
  
"What?," Angel asked as casually as possible. There was no way he'd let her   
know what was going on inside of him. She would scream and run away.  
  
She shrugged, "I just think that it's rather strange. You never came to the   
Crush before and tonight you show up like this."  
  
He stopped and looked at her. "Like what?"  
  
"I don't know. As if you wanted to rip Luke apart. Something like that." She  
gazed at him expectantly and heard the his sharp intake of breath.  
  
Narrowing his eyes he watched her face, "He isn't good for you," he said and  
turned to walk again.  
  
"Not good for me, huh?," her temper was rising unwillingly, "And who are you to  
tell me who is good for me and who not? Are you my father? No! My brother? No!   
So keep away from my business," she hissed.  
  
"Your business," he echoed. "He had his hands all over you." Stop it, Angel,   
stop it, he scolded himself. This is sheer madness. You were involved with her  
grand-mother. But wasn't it madness with Buffy too. Oh God, now he actually  
started to find excuses to get involved with Anne?!  
  
"And?," her eyes were narrowed angrily too. "I'm a legal adult. It's my   
business and mine alone whose hands are on me or not. If I want a guy to fuck me, it's my decision," she shouted  
  
At that moment something in Angel snapped. Acting on pure instinct he reached   
for her and crushed her to him. His mouth searching hungrily for hers, pressing   
her body as close as possible. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth not   
leaving space for discussion.  
  
Almost like a reflex she slung her arms around his neck and opened her mouth   
for him. A moan escaped her throat when she felt the passion pulsing through her. Yes, her body and soul screamed. Yes, this was so right, this was the real thing. Anne was far beyond rational thinking. She was melting in his arms, drowning in sheer bliss to be so near to him. She had never known love before but in an instant she knew it had to be exactly like this. She couldn't get enough of him, wanted more, wanted everything.  
  
His hands were roaming over her body, touching her through her shirt, seeking   
for contact.  
  
Somewhere in the depth of his mind something began to whisper. First it was  
faint, but became stronger with every passing second, with every touch, every  
kiss, every moan from her. This feeling was so familiar, so blissfully   
familiar. He didn't want to feel it, but was helpless not to. His soul was   
reaching out for the girl in his arms, desperately seeking contact with it's   
other half.  
  
"Buffy," he moaned into her mouth.  
  
Instantly consciousness kicked in and panic surged through his body. With wide,  
horrified eyes he jumped away from her as if she was on fire. She stood there,  
panting, her eyes blazed over with desire and passion, not able to understand  
what just had happened.  
  
"Angel?," Anne barely recognized her voice. It was so different.  
  
"No," came the panic-stricken reply from the vampire. "This is wrong," he said  
desperately. "We cannot do this. I cannot. Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.  
Forgive me. God, forgive me," he repeated again and again.  
  
"Angel?," she repeated, not understanding and struggling with her own feelings.  
She felt a little shaky herself, like a movie there were images rushing through  
her head. Images she couldn't place or understand. Voices, faces, events she  
couldn't remember, but they seemed so familiar. "I... Angel, what is happening   
to us?"  
  
"I don't know," he didn't have an answer. "All I know is that I have to stay   
away from you. I cannot do this. I'm sorry, but I won't betray Buffy. And   
certainly not with her own grand-daughter."  
  
"But she is dead," Anne cried in despair.  
  
"Don't say this. She isn't dead, not for me. I felt," suddenly his eyes widened   
again. "You weren't breathing and then ... oh God, oh dear God," he whispered,   
not believing, not daring to believe what now seemed so obvious to him. What   
would explain everything.  
  
"What?," she demanded. "Tell me what you think. I don't understand what's going  
on," her voice was rising with every word. He could see she was utterly   
confused and even hurt.  
  
"I cannot tell you. Not now. First I have to ... Anne, we should go home. I   
have to talk to Willow," his voice became urgent and he took her hand. With this   
touch he reached out for her again. But he had to be sure, he had to know for   
certain before he could tell her. "Come on. Willow's certainly waiting for us."  
  
With this he began to walk leaving her to follow completely and utterly   
confused.  
  
End Chapter 10.  
  



	11. The Wiccas

Chapter 11: The Wiccas  
  
Anne sat in her classroom staring into space. Somehow she couldn't shrug off   
the feeling that she didn't belong here. It was as if she was cut into two   
halves. As if there were two parts struggling inside of her and she couldn't get   
a hold on. She'd actually looked forward to school on Monday. Seeing Karen,   
laughing with her, but now she hated it. It didn't get her mind off the weekend.  
  
Soon after they'd arrived at Willow's house Angel had disappeared into the   
basement and avoided her for the rest of the weekend. Once or twice she'd found   
him whispering with the former red-head, but as soon as he'd spotted her he'd   
left the room. He obviously hated her for what had happened the night of Karen's   
birthday. And maybe he hated himself even more for wanting her, for giving in to   
passion and desire.  
  
But oh, it had felt so right. So wonderful as if finding the second half of   
her. And she knew for sure that she would never find the same with anyone else.   
It had always been like this. She'd known it all her life ... whoa, where had   
that thought come from? She could feel the blood drain from her face trying to   
evaluate this special image. Her and Angel close to each other, hugging each   
other. But the woman in his arms wasn't really her. It was ... God, now she   
started even during the day seeing him with her grandmother. Was this a foul play of her conscience to tell her it was wrong to feel that way?  
  
But why would her whole being cry out for him then? Every fibre in her body   
felt drawn to him. The mere thought of being separated from him, being refused by him caused pure agony. She had to make him see it wasn't wrong. How could   
something be wrong that felt so wonderful, so right? She would make him see, yes   
tonight she would talk to him and make him see.  
  
*****  
  
In Willow's house at the same time Tara and the former red-head set everything   
up for a familiar ritual. Willow had thought Angel was crazy at first when he had approached her on Saturday to contact Tara for another soul summoning ritual, but his voice had sounded so urgent and so pleading at the same time, that she'd given in. Even if she didn't understand what he was hoping to get from this she could see the deep pain and confusion in his eyes. And she could understand him. The thought of Buffy's soul not being at peace made her sick too.  
  
"I... I'm ready," Tara said hesitantly after a moment. She was dressed in a   
white gown and had set up her candles and the herbs she needed. "We can do it   
now."  
  
"Good," Angel had been pacing the room all the time. He was impatient and very  
agitated. Now he stopped at looked at the witches, "I'm very grateful for this.   
I just ... well," he seemed to think about something, but then decided otherwise, "just let's get started. I don't want Anne to run into this."  
  
"Sure," Willow nodded, understanding that he didn't want to burden the girl   
with the experience.  
  
Tara began to chant and lit her scented candles. Willow burnt the herbs in a   
pot and smiling slightly she explained Angel that she'd found a way to make them  
smell better. He didn't even blink at her, too concentrated on what was going   
on. Tara spoke softly and recited the lines from her memory. She'd become one of   
the most experienced wiccas in the country. Many people contacted her to help   
them and even in her advanced age she was used to travelling long distances. So   
she hadn't hesitated to follow Willow's plea.  
  
After a minute she stopped chanting and shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry. It  
still doesn't work. Her spirit, her soul, doesn't react."  
  
To both witches' surprise Angel just nodded and seemed deep in thoughts. Then   
he raised his head and looked at them. He spoke slowly, but his voice was firm,   
"Then I have another plea. A request. Could you," he talked to Tara but his eyes  
were on Willow now, "could you summon Anne's spirit instead?"  
  
"WHAT?," the former red-head shouted in disbelief and shock. "What are you  
talking about? Angel this isn't some funny game. Don't you trust Tara, do you  
want to test her?"  
  
"No," he shook his head emphatically. "I can't explain this, not now. Maybe  
later. Please."  
  
"B-But I c-can't summon a s-spirit of a l-living human b-being," Tara was pale   
as a sheet. What shocked her even more was the determination in Angel's voice.   
She didn't know the vampire very well, had seen him only during his visits with   
Buffy all these years ago and then at the memorial service but so far she'd   
thought of him as a reasonable person.  
  
"You must be mad," Willow looked at the vampire in disgust. "What's behind all  
this? I'm not going to do..."  
  
"Willow," his voice sounded desperate, "please trust me in this. I don't want   
to say anything. There are things ... some things happened with ... with Anne ... and me," he ran his hand over his face and then through his hair. This was so hard, "I cannot explain it right now. I need to know first. I need to know for sure!" His desperate, pleading tone had changed into demanding.  
  
"M-maybe w-we just d-do it," Tara laid a soothing hand on her friend's arm.   
"I-it won't h-harm her."  
  
Willow gazed at her and then at Angel. If looks could kill Angel would've been  
disintegrated right now. But then something like defeat entered her eyes and   
her shoulders slumped, "Alright," she said with a sigh. "But you will explain   
later."  
  
"I will," Angel replied eagerly. "I promise."  
  
"O-okay," Tara turned and started the ritual again. She lit her candles and  
Willow burnt the herbs. She was like in trance for ten minutes and when she  
turned back to two other people in the room she was even paler than before.  
  
"What?," Willow demanded, while Angel surprisingly seemed to relax, somehow  
knowing what the Wicca would say.  
  
"H-how d-did you know?," Tara asked him hoarsely.  
  
"I knew, I just wanted to be hundred percent certain," he said simply.  
  
She just nodded and turned towards Willow who looked at her impatiently. "It  
worked," she told her. "I could summon Anne's spirit."  
  
All blood drained from Willow's face and with a little cry she sunk down on a  
near by chair, while a shaking hand was covering her mouth. Silence stretched   
in the room, until she finally asked Angel with tearful eyes, "What happened?"  
  
He kneeled down in front of her, "I'm not sure. You remember that I told you   
she stopped breathing after the Morah-demon attacked her." When he saw Willow nod he continued, "shortly afterwards, no, immediately after this our relationship ... changed. I touched her and it was ... like electricity bolting through me. It had never been like this before with Anne. I saw her as a daughter, I liked her, even loved her, but never ... not once ... felt sexually attracted to her. All of a sudden that had changed."  
  
He got up and began to pace the room again, unable to not move. Shortly   
glancing at Tara, who was listening as well, he went on, "It almost drove me   
crazy. I didn't want to be attracted to her. She was Buffy's grand-child and I   
was lusting after her. I was disgusted by my body's reactions, the desire I   
suddenly felt for her. First I tried to convince myself it had just been a   
reaction to the danger, but soon I had to accept it wasn't that way."  
  
Angel stopped and took a deep breath, facing the two wiccas again, "You   
remember the evening you told me she was with a guy. It almost drove me over the   
edge to think of another one touching her. I left the house, honestly discussing   
my sanity when I almost unconsciously arrived at the Crush, that's the club they   
were to celebrate her friend's birthday," he explained for Tara. "I went in and   
had to summon every bit of my self-control not to storm onto the dance-floor and   
rip the guy apart."  
  
He sighed and shook his head, letting out an unhappy laugh, "We left shortly  
afterwards and she was mocking me for behaving like a jealous lover and ...,"   
he bowed his head in embarrassment, "something inside of me snapped and I  
... I kissed her. It was like a thunderstorm." Looking up again, he took a spot   
on one of the sofas, "I can't even explain it. It was as if floodgates in my soul were opening and my spirit reached out for hers ... and found it. I was shocked at first, horrified to find the same things in Anne that I had in Buffy, but then suddenly it was like curtains torn from my mind. I just knew."  
  
Willow stared at him for a long moment and then said slowly, "What you're   
telling us is that it's Buffy's soul inside Anne's body?"  
  
He nodded in confirm, "Yes. Don't ask me why, but I just knew. The moment we   
were kissing there was no way denying it anymore."  
  
"Oh God," the former red-head's eyes shimmered with tears. "The morning after   
the fight with the demon she told me she'd dreamt about Buffy and you," she told   
them, "she said there had been so many images in her head, she couldn't place.   
She told me she'd seen Xander and Cordy when they were young. You and Buffy   
kissing." She shook her head, not able to process what she now began to believe.  
  
"She gave her friend a bracelet for her birthday. It had a Claddagh symbol on  
it," Angel added this piece of information. "Anne was just laughing about these  
things, but Buffy," his voice almost broke, "Buffy would've known."  
  
"B-but why?" Tara was believing but not understanding.  
  
Helplessly Angel moved his shoulders, "I don't know. I cannot tell you." But  
suddenly a look of determination entered his eyes, "But I know a person who   
can. Willow, tell Anne ... Buffy ... well, tell her I had to leave town. I have   
to find Whistler. He's the only one to explain this. I need to contact him and   
get him here. And don't tell her. Try to act as normally as possible. We have no   
idea what side-effects this has. How she would react if we just confront her with the truth. She still acts more like Anne. Maybe Whistler can explain that too." His hands clenched into fists, "Somehow I have a feeling he knew right from the start."  
  
End Chapter 11.  



	12. The Prophecy

Chapter 12: The Prophecy  
  
  
Tense silence hang over Willow's living-room a week later. It was late evening  
and already dark. Angel had called earlier to inform them that at last he'd  
gotten a hold of Whistler and they'd arrive soon. He hadn't evaluated anything   
on the phone, but his voice had lingered with barely controlled rage. Willow had   
told Dermot and Ellen about their new found knowledge and after a short   
hesitation the watcher was believing her now. His wife however was still a bit   
uncertain. Yet she was willing to listen and learn.  
  
Dermot had sent the slayer away because Angel had asked for it. So Anne/Buffy   
was on a long patrol through Sunnydale's cemeteries looking for a certain demon   
Dermot had made up for tonight. The vampire wanted to really understand what was   
going on before he would tell the slayer. He knew that this sort of information   
could easily crack her.  
  
From regular calls with Willow throughout the week of his absence he knew that   
Anne/Buffy's dreams had increased up to an amount where she would wake up   
screaming the names of her friends or Angel's as well as the ones of her   
children. One particular night she'd woken up and told a concerned Willow every   
detail when Buffy had found her second husband decapitated by a demon.  
  
Furthermore it seemed to have irritated her deeply that Angel had left the house   
without an explanation or a good-bye. She couldn't understand her growing   
feelings towards him and felt rejected that he'd gone away after kissing her so   
passionately.  
  
Willow had also noticed increasing changes in her habits, like drinking coffee in the morning, something Anne wouldn't have done, but what was so typical Buffy. Besides this she would add pieces of information when talking with Dermot, things that only Buffy could've known. On the other side she seemed to start forgetting things connected to Anne's life. Like phone-numbers of her friends. All in all the girl's confusion grew and the concerned witch was glad that Angel was coming back tonight.  
  
The hesitant knock on the door announced his presence and only seconds later he  
and Whistler stood in the living-room which felt overcrowded all of a sudden.  
  
"Glad you're back," Willow greeted the vampire she saw as her friend. "And?"   
She looked at him expectantly, while Tara's face wore a calm expression. Dermot   
and Ellen seemed both restless. Especially the watcher's wife who was constantly   
fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.  
  
Angel introduced Whistler to the watcher and his wife and explained his   
connection to the Powers That Be, adding that the demon hadn't told him anything   
so far.  
  
With a shrug Whistler grinned, "Don't like to repeat myself," he said as if it  
would explain everything. A slight growl from Angel was the only reaction. The  
vampire was fed up with the demon by now. Not only that it had been tough to  
track him down, but then he had refused to talk until they were in Sunnydale.  
  
"Where is the little slayer?," the demon wanted to know.  
  
"We sent her on patrol," Willow replied.  
  
"It's not necessary for her to hear this. She's confused enough as it is.  
Hopefully I will find a way to break the news to her gently," Angel said   
without looking at Whistler. He was afraid that he would rip him apart if he did.  
  
"Now," Whistler helped himself to a glass of his favourite Malt Whisky and   
settled on a comfortable seat. "My friend Angel here has already told me what   
he's suspecting. That Anne's soul has been replaced with Buffy's. The answer to   
the question is a simple YES."  
  
Although already knowing about it Willow's and Tara's eyes went wide, while the  
watcher and his wife stayed calm this time. Angel on the other hand turned   
round in a swift motion and his eyes shot daggers at the demon. "And why, pray   
tell me, couldn't you tell me before. I think a yes isn't too much to repeat."  
  
Whistler sipped from his drink and gave him a slight smile. "Because you   
would've wanted to whole story then and it's quite long and complicated."  
  
The vampire just narrowed his eyes at this, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Then tell us," Willow demanded. "What does this all mean?"  
  
The demon took a deep breath and put his glass down. "I know that you're already   
familiar with the Karan-prophecy, about a slayer being defeated and then stronger to prevent the Armageddon." When he saw everyone nod, he continued, "Believe me, I really don't like this. Being the messenger I mean, but the Powers rarely ask for what I wish." He slightly shook his head, "The plan was formed when it appeared that Buffy was the strongest slayer in history. Of course she was only human and so wouldn't live forever.  
  
"Anyway. The PTB already knew about the upcoming Armageddon. It's really very   
near. But still Buffy, even if she'd be alive, would be too old to fight. So they took care that her grand-child which would be in the right age-bracket to have a fit and trained body and would look like her..."  
  
"You mean they planned to kill Anne from the beginning. She was never meant to  
live longer than 18," Willow asked with tears in her eyes.  
  
"As sad as it is, but yes and no. For this you have to understand fate. It   
was Anna's fate to live only 18 years. Things like these are made up at the   
moment a person is born, sometimes even earlier. Anyway, knowing this they made   
Anne, as I already told you, much like her grandmother," Whistler confirmed. "I   
don't like it either, but please remember I'm only the messenger. Yeah, well,   
where was I, oh yes. So Buffy died together with her daughter and son-in-law.   
Their time had come anyway. Nothing could've prevented it, so don't dwell on it.  
  
"The hardest part for them was to keep Buffy's soul in shape, if you want to call it that way until the body needed was free. That was the reason Angel was needed in Sunnydale, to train Anne and to get the body in shape for a slayer's soul as experienced as Buffy's."  
  
At the sound of a sharp intake of breath they all turned to Angel who had vamped   
out and whose eyes gleamed yellow in the dim light of the room. "This is so   
sick," he hissed through his prolonged canines. "The sickest thing I've ever   
heard. You're telling me that the body of a young girl has just been used for the greater Good, so Anne would live 18 years only to give her body-shell to the soul of her Grandmother. God, how can you look at yourself." Disgust dripped from his voice, "And I thought the Devil was cruel." He turned away again, but Willow could see his hands were trembling with rage.  
  
A rage she knew was reflected in her eyes too. She didn't trust her voice at the   
moment so she didn't say anything.  
  
Dermot finally voiced the words everyone was thinking, "But why?"  
  
"Because they needed a slayer with a young trained body, but as experienced as  
Buffy and as good. She never died at the hands of a demon. She was retired. The  
first slayer in history to do so. But she would've had difficulties to adjust   
to a completely different body. So they made her grand-daughter like her. But not only the body, the mind too. Anne is ... was free-spirited and courageous." He shrugged, "It's really that simple."  
  
Before anyone could blink Angel had pulled the demon out of his chair and was   
now pressing him to the wall. "Simple, huh?," his voice was low and dangerous.   
"You think this is simple? Did you ever - only a second - think what will happen   
if Buffy's soul regains her memory. She will have to live with the fact that all   
the people she's cared about are dead, she will have to live with the memory. But worse she will have to live with the fact that she's alive because she uses her own grand-daughter's body. Don't use the word simple again."  
  
"Hey, my friend," Whistler raised his hands in defence. "Again, I'm only the   
messenger. Besides, I thought you'd be happy to have your beloved little slayer   
back. Your reactions to her were quite clear," he tried to joke only to choke the next second as Angel put pressure on his windpipe.  
  
"You're disgusting, Whistler. Whatever my reactions were, whatever my dreams   
are. My first and only concern at the moment is how to tell her. How on earth am   
I going to tell her what happened?"  
  
"You don't have to. She already knows," came a new voice from the door.  
  
End Chapter 12.  



	13. The Resurrection

Chapter 13: The Resurrection  
  
"Buffy," Willow's voice was barely above a whisper.  
  
Angel let go of the demon and turned towards the shaking form of the slayer  
standing in the doorway of the living-room. "How much have you heard?," he   
asked, his voice sounding strained.  
  
"Everything," she answered, her eyes never leaving Angel. "I was bored, because   
patrol wasn't very exciting so I decided to come back. I was so happy when I saw   
your car in front of the house. I wanted to surprise you so I used the   
back-door." She shrugged and let out an unhappy laugh, "My luck."  
  
"Buffy I...," Angel made a step towards her but she hold up a hand.  
  
"No. Don't come near me. Don't touch me and never look at me that way. Better   
you start now forgetting the whole thing."  
  
"W-What?," Willow asked confused.  
  
"You heard me. I refuse to live that way." Her eyes seemed to pierce into   
Whistler's form. "Change it back. I served them for damned 25 years. They owe me. Change me back," she demanded. "There still has to be a lot of Anne inside here. I have all her memories, well, most of them. She isn't gone," her voice was urgent.  
  
"Sorry, kiddo," Whistler sadly shook his head. "But that's just the   
transformation stage. Anne's soul is gone already and settled. There's no way to   
turn it back. Besides they wouldn't do it."  
  
"Then I'll just refuse to work for them. Let the Armageddon come. I will meet   
the first demon approaching me and do nothing to prevent him from the kill," she   
said stubbornly and raised her chin. "Do you hear me?!"  
  
"I did," the demon nodded. "But it won't change a thing. The soul of your   
grand-daughter can't come back," he repeated.  
  
"But you brought me back," she yelled desperately. "I'm here."  
  
"Yes," Whistler confirmed, "but only because it was meant that way from the   
start. Your soul was never at peace, never finally settled. It was kept in a   
waiting state. That's why. Ask your friend over there," he pointed at Tara,   
"she'll tell you."  
  
Buffy's eyes flew to the old Wicca pleading to tell her the demon was wrong,   
but she simply nodded. "It's true, Buffy. We already summoned Anne's spirit, it's settled. When Angel suspected...," she trailed off.  
  
"You knew," the slayer whirled around towards her ex-lover. "You knew the moment   
we kissed and didn't tell me. Oh," she threw her hands in the air, "that sounds   
so familiar. Keep Buffy in the dark, don't tell her, make the decisions without   
her, because she's too stupid to make them herself."  
  
Angel, now back in his human form, shook his head, "That's not the way it   
was...," he tried to explain, but was interrupted by Buffy's angry voice.  
  
"Then tell me," she demanded, clenching her hands into fists and taking a   
threatening step towards him. "Tell me why you didn't say a word. Why you made me miserable? Again!"  
  
"What the hell should I've said," he shouted desperately, "What? Hi Anne, sorry   
to disturb you, but you aren't Anne anymore, your soul has been exchanged for   
Buffy's. What would you've said?", he took a deep breath and then continued   
calmer, "Buffy, you were confused. Your soul had just returned. You weren't even   
aware of the fact. I didn't understand it at first too. My body reacted   
instantly, but I was too confused to understand. I desperately tried to suppress   
the desire I suddenly felt for what I thought was Anne."  
  
Buffy was too confused, too hurt, to listen to his pleading. Crossing her arms   
she asked mockingly, "Oh, and I'm sure now you think it's not too bad, because   
you've got me back, right?"  
  
Willow stared at her friend with wide eyes, "That's not true," she said quietly.   
"I thought you heard what we were talking. Didn't you hear Angel shouting at   
Whistler."  
  
"Keep out of this, Will," Buffy snapped. "This is not about you. Now Angel," she   
fixed his eyes with her's, "can you tell me honestly that you aren't glad I'm  
back." When he didn't respond, she shouted, "Answer me!"  
  
He averted his eyes in shame and whispered, "I can't."  
  
"That's what I thought," she snorted and then her eyes narrowed, "maybe you   
already knew. I mean, maybe you could've been a little bit quicker the night Anne was attacked and stopped breathing. Maybe you could've saved her, but you   
didn't."  
  
"Buffy," Willow shouted in horror.  
  
"No I didn't," Angel whispered, guilt almost eating him up. "I'm sorry," his   
voice was barely audible now. "I couldn't save her and I'm sorry. So, so sorry,"   
his voice broke. Then he looked up, his eyes searching Willow. The witch gasped   
at the pained expression in them, "I'd better go now. She won't have me here."  
  
"Angel, you don't have to..."  
  
"No, let him go," Buffy interrupted angrily, her eyes cold as ice. "Nobody needs   
him here, and I sure as hell don't want him. Once, only once I asked a favour   
from you and you failed. Doesn't that tell you something about your miserable   
existence," she shouted.  
  
"Buffy, stop it," Willow shouted, "Stop it now! Angel didn't do anything to  
deserve this." She turned towards the vampire, "Angel you...," her voice trailed   
off. The spot were he'd been just standing was empty. The vampire had already   
left.  
  
*  
  
Angel ran into the night. The pain piercing through him was worse than anything  
he'd ever experienced. He'd thought nothing could hurt more than Buffy's death. But to face the disgust and hate in her eyes was so much worse.  
  
There was nothing to defend himself. He had been meant to take care of Anne and  
he'd failed. Only the fact that he was meant to fight beside Buffy in the final  
battle prevented him ending his miserable existence here and now. An unhappy   
laugh escaped his throat. He truly was disgusting. He hadn't saved a girl and   
lusted after the soul of another in the same body.  
  
He hadn't felt like this since the day his soul had been returned to him the   
first time. Self-hatred was almost eating him up. Maybe this was his true   
punishment for all the horrible things Angelus had done. Well whoever had cooked   
up this for him had truly done a good job. It felt as if his soul was ripped into shreds. Obviously there was a lot Angelus could've learned from the Powers That Be.  
  
*  
  
Angrily the witch turned at the slayer, "Are you happy now? I know you're   
confused and you hurt, but did you really have to do it? Didn't he have to take   
enough already?"  
  
"Oh, now you're protecting him?," Buffy mocked. "Yeah, well, he's really damned   
attractive."  
  
"Buffy," Tara shook her head in horror. "Do you listen to yourself? T-this is  
d-disgusting."  
  
"He was meant to protect Anne, wasn't he," the slayer demanded, "and he   
failed."  
  
"So did you when Jenny Calender was killed all these years ago, but none of us  
ever blamed you for this." Seeing tears in Buffy's eyes Willow knew that for   
the first time she'd broken through her angry shield, "It wasn't your fault   
Angelus killed Jenny and it wasn't Angel's fault the demon killed Anne. You share the memories you said. So, try to remember. I'm sure he did everything to help, and tried everything to revive her, right?"  
  
The slayer didn't say anything for a long time and then a sob escaped her   
throat, "You're right," her voice sounded like the one of a little child. "Oh   
God, Willow," her trembling hand flew to her mouth. "Oh God, what have I done?"  
  
The witch stood up and embraced the slayer in her arms. "It's okay, Buffy.   
Everything will be okay.  
  
But the slayer pulled back, "No," she shook her head, "Did you hear what I said   
to him. I practically accused him that he let her die deliberately. Oh God," she   
whispered.  
  
"You sure know how to press the right buttons," Whistler said after a moment.   
"God, why do you two kids have to torture yourself like this. Can't you be happy   
that you finally have a chance together?"  
  
"Happy?," Buffy's anger was back in an instant. "You think I want to be happy   
to live in my own grand-daughter's body? You think I will live happily ever after with my vampire ex-lover like this. Try again," she snorted. "I feel dirty. I feel like I'm going to vomit. Besides did you forget about the tiny little bit called happiness clause?"  
  
"That's gone," Willow said quietly.  
  
The slayer whirled around, her eyes wide, "What? What do you mean gone?"  
  
"Angel told me. Only some weeks before you died he found a gypsy who altered   
his curse."  
  
"Oh, that's great," Buffy said sarcastically. "And so you thought, well, it's   
sad and all but finally Buffy will be happy because she can now screw around with Angel. Newsflash Willow, it will never be that way. I will never, do you hear me, never use Anne's body for my own wishes. I refuse to buy my own happiness with her life. Apologising for my cruel words is one thing, but don't expect me to be happy."  
  
Dermot cleared his throat, "Maybe we should all go and sleep now. We're all   
tired and exhausted."  
  
"Fine," Buffy sighed. "Let's go to bed, but I won't change my mind. Whistler,   
tell your Powers that I will fight the Armageddon. It's against my nature not to   
and after all I don't want Anne to have died for nothing, but that's it.   
Afterwards I quit. And then it's my decision to live the way I want. Is that   
understood?" With this she turned and left the room.  
  
The remaining persons looked at each other, their faces more than only   
concerned. After minutes of silence Willow said, "Whistler, what about Angel?"  
  
"He'll be okay," the demon replied.  
  
"How can you know," the witch wanted to know, "the way he looked I wouldn't be  
surprised to find his ashes somewhere."  
  
"He won't kill himself. He knows he's needed in the final battle and the one  
thing that was always sure about the bugger was when it came to the little   
slayer. He will do anything to keep her safe. Don't worry."  
  
End Chapter 13.  
  



	14. The Realization

Chapter 14: The Realization  
  
  
Angel spent the next few weeks in his own personal hell. Images of Buffy accusing him haunted him day and night and the disgusted look in her eyes wouldn't let go. He kept away from Willow's house, didn't contact any of their group. He'd found an empty crypt, avoiding the mansion because he knew he wouldn't be able to face the memories there. He'd barely survived the memorial service and in the mental state he was now he might crack. Plus he knew that they would search for him there first.  
  
He became careless with feeding, left the crypt only from time to time. His   
appearance changed, his face was gray and haunted and people - if he saw any -   
turned away from him. With his history he'd always been an easy target to burden   
with all the blame. He knew that he was unconsciously looking for punishment, for pain, for all the deeds of his demon. The fact that Buffy had always seen more in him had made all the difference. He had been able to believe in himself, believe that he was more than a murderous monster, more than blood, death and torture. That he could do real good, make amends. But now even the only person important to him saw nothing more in him than a miserable existence.  
  
Angel wasn't a weak person, but he couldn't cope anymore. It was a fact that he   
didn't save Anne's life. That he couldn't have done anything to prevent it didn't matter anymore in his present state of mind. Buffy's words had cut too deep and the wound was bleeding constantly.  
  
So he wasn't really living and barely existing either. But he couldn't kill   
himself, to end it. The thought that he was meant to fight at Buffy's side was   
the only thing that kept him alive. It didn't once cross his mind that he   
wouldn't be of any help if he didn't keep his body in shape, but all rational   
thinking was long gone.  
  
*****  
  
For Buffy the weeks weren't easy too. As soon as she fully realised what her   
words might have done to Angel she began searching for him. Whistler had assured   
her that he wouldn't kill himself, that he was still near by just in case, but   
she couldn't find him. It was as if he'd vanished into thin air.  
  
She could only begin to imagine how he would feel now. She wanted to talk to him   
and tell him she hadn't meant what she'd said to him. But he kept hidden.  
  
In her daily life Anne transformed more and more into Buffy. Willow noticed it in the way her friend was acting, the way she would toss her hair, the way she would pout or laugh. The slayer had Buffy's full memories back and Anne's faded bit by bit although Buffy desperately tried to hold onto it. Willow found her more than once crying in a chair or in her bed. Blaming fate for what it had thrown upon her. And she mourned her daughter and grand-daughter, but she had accepted that there was nothing she could do about it, as much as she hated the fact.  
  
The fact that troubled her most was that her soul was in Anne's body now. Willow  
had the impression she would've felt better if it had been the body of  
someone who'd died anyhow. Buffy kept telling herself that Anne had only been   
made so that her body could serve her grand-mother later, although that wasn't   
true either.  
  
Willow and Tara, who became a constant visitor, tried to explain, that Anne's   
fate allowed her only 18 years and that other people had to die when they were   
much younger, but to no avail.  
  
*  
  
Eight weeks after Angel had disappeared Willow finally had enough. The day had   
started as usual, they had had breakfast together and then Buffy would sit down   
and read. She'd dropped out of school, not really seeing any sense in making her   
high school diploma twice and generally not caring at all what would happen to   
her.  
  
They'd been talking about life and old age, because Tara, who'd been coming   
later, was complaining about her aching hip. "I barely slept tonight," she sighed and rubbed the skin over her right hip-bone. "The doctor says I need an   
artificial joint, but I hate hospitals," she smiled at Willow who nodded   
understandingly.  
  
"God, your problems," Buffy rolled her eyes while she wasn't even looking up from her book.  
  
Something inside Willow snapped at that moment and she shouted, "I've had just   
about enough of your attitude. Buffy, look at me! Do you even realise what a gift has been given to you? You got the present of Anne's body and look what you're doing with it. You're pitiful."  
  
"A great present," Buffy jumped up and glared at the witch. "Tell me, how would   
you feel about the fact that you would inhabit your own grand-child's body. Hmm?   
Pray, tell me!," she demanded.  
  
Willow sighed loudly, "Honestly I don't know. But that isn't the point. I can   
imagine it must be hard, but you can't change it, so you should try to make the   
best of it, but instead you're running around like a shadow of yourself, drowning in self-pity."  
  
"Thanks," Buffy hissed. "I really need that."  
  
"Oh stop it! You aren't the only one who's suffering. I can only guess what   
Angel's going through at the moment."  
  
At the mention of the vampire's name the slayer's eyes instantly filled with   
tears, "I already said I'm sorry," she replied hoarsely.  
  
"Yeah," Willow wasn't about to let it go this time. "But that doesn't change what you did. I know you tried to find him, but you didn't and that should tell you how much he's hurting right now. He's hiding. And he's hiding from you. Angel never hid from you. Even when none of us would know where he was, you always did. But not this time." She paused and studied Buffy's face for a moment, the tears were now running freely but Willow didn't feel pity, not anymore. "What on earth is the matter with you?"  
  
"I can't forgive myself for this," the slayer shouted pointing at her own body.   
"If it weren't for me Anne would be alive. It's her body and her life I'm   
living."  
  
"No."  
  
Slayer and witch both turned around at the sharp reply coming from Tara. Her   
voice was softer when she continued, "That is not true, Buffy. I tried to explain this to you but you wouldn't listen. Each human being, each soul has a certain time on this planet. Some have 80 years, other 60 and some only 18. And there are some who are only allowed to live for some hours. Don't ask me why it is this way, it's much too complicated to explain, but has a lot to do with balance." She gave the slayer a slight smile and went on, "From the moment of her birth Anne's life was meant to last 18 years. Under different circumstances her body would've been reduced into dust by now. But because you were too important to let you go, they used her body to bring your soul, your spirit, back."  
  
Tara looked thoughtful for a moment and then tilted her head, "Would it help you   
to know that she doesn't resent you for this?"  
  
"I ... I don't know. How could I know?"  
  
For the first time Willow's face was lit by a smile. "That's easy. We summon her   
spirit. We will do a séance."  
  
*  
  
They set the séance-circle the same night. As they needed a fourth female to   
summon a female spirit for a conversation Ellen volunteered for the job. Critical at first she had now fully realised that the girl wasn't the same she had been before. Now she was talking to Buffy, while the girl she had come to know had been Anne. It was confusing and also a bit scary, but you couldn't turn away from facts and as a watcher in training Ellen had learned to believe the strangest things.  
  
"Powers of the Universe I summon the spirit of Anne, former slayer in Sunnydale.   
Come to us," Tara said in a low voice while she lit candles in a certain order.   
She looked at Buffy, "As soon as I make contact I have to transfer her spirit to   
you so that you can communicate. The communication will be silent," she   
explained, "as if you were doing telepathy. You understand?"  
  
The slayer nodded and concentrated on Tara's eyes the way the Wicca had explained to her earlier.  
  
As soon as the first candle extinguished the four women in the room could feel a   
cold breeze in the air and Tara's eyes went wide and unfocussed. After some   
seconds she gained control again and now Buffy's face wore an expression as if in a trance. Her eyes closed and she began to slightly rock back and forth, her lips twitching from time to time, the restless movements of her eyeballs visible   
behind her lids. Ellen watched everything with an expression of awe and wonder.  
  
One by one the candles burnt out and when the last began to flicker Buffy's eyes   
shot open and she drew a deep breath. She slightly shook her head and a frown   
appeared on her face. Only seconds later her eyes filled with tears, but at the   
same time she smiled. "Thank you," she whispered and looked at Willow and Tara.  
  
"So it worked?," Ellen wanted to know.  
  
The slayer nodded, "Yeah. She said that she's happy where she is now. That she   
hated slaying and that she is glad to be with her parents again. She wants me to   
live my life to the full." A little bit embarrassed she wiped her tears away,   
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Oh Buffy, you don't need to apologize, we all understand," Willow said softly   
taking her friend's hand and squeezing it. "But we aren't the ones you should   
talk to," she added after a moment.  
  
"I know," the slayer bit her lower lip. "I need to find him. As soon as possible. He has to know and maybe he'll somehow find a way to forgive me then," she jumped up, grabbed two stakes and her jacket and was almost out of the door, when she heard Willow ask.  
  
"What? He has to know what?"  
  
"How much I love him, Will, how much I love him."  
  
End Chapter 14.  



	15. The Sacrifice

Chapter 15: The Sacrifice  
  
  
Buffy doubled her efforts to find Angel, but without success. The vampire   
stayed hidden. She even contacted his regular blood-supply but they hadn't seen   
him for weeks, only one more point to make her worry. He had to feed, regularly,   
and if he didn't ... she didn't want to think about it. The thought that he might starve himself to death was too horrible.  
  
She tried to contact Whistler, but as she didn't know how to do it, it didn't  
work.  
  
*  
  
Angel had more luck in finding the little annoying demon and it was 10 weeks   
after the last time he'd seen Buffy when he was walking through the Sunnyrest   
cemetery to meet with Whistler. For weeks now Angel had been entertaining this   
idea and now he would try it. There was only one way Buffy's life could be right   
again and he would do anything to achieve it.  
  
Whistler was already sitting on a headstone, his legs dangling into the air and   
when he saw the vampire he grinned, "You look like shit my friend and this is a   
really inviting place for a meeting. I thought of a bar or the likes but seeing   
you now I'm sure they wouldn't have let you in. What the hell did you do to   
yourself?"  
  
"It's none of your business," Angel snapped. "I'm not here to discuss my   
appearance."  
  
"Fine, fine," the demon took another long look, shook his head and sighed, "So  
what can I do for you? I thought I explained everything the last time we met."  
  
"I want you to bring her back," the vampire's voice was all but demanding.  
  
"I already told you, I can't bring her back. I'm only the messenger."  
  
"For God's sake Whistler, Buffy's served them for 25 years, I even longer. Does   
that count for nothing. Can't they do us that little favour. I'm sure it's only a snap of the fingers for them." Exhausted because of his bad condition Angel sat down on a headstone near by.  
  
"It isn't that easy, my friend," the demon's face was serious now. "A soul once   
settled in the afterlife can't be brought back. They can only stop it from going   
there, what they did with Buffy's. But Anne's lost to this world. Angel, the fate of mankind is in your hand, your hand and the slayer's. It was all done for a purpose. You cannot escape fate, you of all people should know it."  
  
"But can't you see what it did to her. She's in so much pain," Angel's voice   
was hoarse with emotion. "I...,"  
  
"Many things will change after this last battle. The evil will be banished from  
the earth. And now I'm saying something I'm not allowed to, but," he shrugged,  
"well, I was never good with rules. This last battle will complete your fate,  
Angel. It will be your redemption. Remember the prophecy, the one talking about  
you becoming human. It will be fulfilled afterwards. You and your little slayer  
will have a real chance for a normal life. What do you say now?"  
  
"Trade it," was the only answer.  
  
Whistler looked at the vampire in confusion, "What do you mean trade it?"  
  
"Trade my life for Anne's. I'm staying a vampire and she can live. Life means  
nothing to me if it means Buffy will hurt. Her happiness is more important than anything."  
  
"Angel, Angel," the demon sighed. "Did you even listen to me? Anne's soul is  
gone. There. Is. No. Way. Back.," he said very slowly. "Get this in your thick  
skull. Besides, it's your redemption and it can't be traded. And, even if it   
was possible it would mean you'd die. Because if you don't become human you'll   
stay a demon with a soul and would be banished from earth with the others."  
  
"I don't care," Angel shouted. "Do *you* listen. I. Don't. Care."  
  
"But I do and they do too. And you can't change fate. It was always meant this   
way. As it was meant that you and Buffy would work together. I admit that they   
didn't plan you two falling in love, but even the Powers cannot control   
everything. Some things are just meant to be. So stop fighting it. You have no   
guilt in Anne's death, my friend, it was fate and Buffy will see that too."  
  
"She doesn't even look at me," Angel said with a low voice.  
  
"Well, she didn't have an opportunity to, I'd say," Whistler grinned. "As far   
as I know you've been keeping a pretty low profile the last weeks. Maybe you   
should go and see her, but you should feed and then take a shower, change your   
clothes. I mean you don't smell, because vampires don't perspire, but still you   
look like shit."  
  
"You're certainly the fashion expert," Angel shot back.  
  
"See, that's better. Get your spirit up. You have to face the fact that things  
are as they are, that you can't change them. Take your slayer, fight with her,  
take care of each other, survive and be happy. And now if you excuse me.  
Conversations like these tire me out, I need a drink." He touched the vampire's  
shoulder and squeezed it, "She loves you. I'm sure she'll come around."  
  
As soon as the demon was gone Angel sank to the ground, his back pressed   
against the headstone, his knees at his chest he felt empty and exhausted. The   
fact that he hadn't taken care of himself took it's toll. There wasn't much   
strength in him left. Could it be true, he thought? Would she, could she forgive   
him - ever? Was there any way he could make her understand that he had tried   
everything in his power to protect Anne?  
  
God, he would be human. If they'd survive the last battle he would become human  
and Buffy was alive. They could've had a future together, a real future. Even  
with her memories he would've done everything to make her happy. Maybe it was  
good after all, they were more even this way. She wasn't the 18 year old   
teenager anymore although she had the body of one (not that this really mattered   
to him), but she knew about loss, grief, death, she was much more experienced and so maybe a better partner for an over 300 year old ex-vampire like him. It would be like a dream come true. A dream he hadn't himself allowed to dream for a long time. It would also mean that he was forgiven, that he had redeemed himself. He could laugh again and not feel guilty. But it meant nothing without her.  
  
If she couldn't forgive him nothing meant anything to him anymore. The Powers   
might see him worthy to be human again, but Buffy hated him. What purpose was   
there in living like that?  
  
A noise startled him and slowly he raised his head. Expecting a demon he   
wouldn't be able to fight a gasp escaped his mouth and his lips formed a name   
almost inaudibly: "Buffy?"  
  
End Chapter 15.  



	16. The Lovers

Chapter 16: The Lovers  
  
  
"Buffy," he whispered again and then instantly bowed his head in shame. "W-what  
are you doing here?"  
  
"I was on patrol," she explained and then startled him again when she fell on   
her knees right in front of him. "Oh Angel, what did you do to yourself," she   
asked with tears in her eyes. When he would neither look at her nor answer she   
framed his head in her hands and forced him to face her. "I'm so sorry for what I said to you. Do you know how long I've been looking for you? I was searching   
every place I could imagine. I thought I would go mad."  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered and couldn't prevent his own tears from falling. "I'm  
so sorry I couldn't save Anne's life. I really tried ...," his voice broke.  
  
"I know. Angel, I know, remember I was there," she frowned, "well at least  
somehow, so I know," she assured him. When she saw the flicker of hope in his  
eyes she quickly continued, "I can't believe what I said to you. The only   
excuse I have is that I was confused and hurting, but I had no right to lash out   
at you like that. I'm sorry."  
  
He shook his head, "There is no need to be sorry. You had every right to behave  
like you did, I didn't protect Anne and ..."  
  
"No," she interrupted him. "*I* was wrong. But I can't believe that you don't  
blame me. Angel, are you even real?"  
  
A little laugh escaped his throat and it made her smile, "I missed you," he  
whispered. "God, how I missed you. After more then 60 years all I needed was to  
reach out and touch you and yet you've never been so far away as you have these   
past weeks."  
  
"I missed you too," she whispered back. And then after a pause she added, "I   
love you."  
  
"Oh, Buffy," with trembling hands he reached out and touched her face. "I would  
give everything to bring her back to you."  
  
"I know," she leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers. "I heard."  
  
"You...," shock flickered through his eyes and then he looked away in   
embarrassment. "You weren't meant to hear."  
  
"I know," she said again. "But I'm glad I did. Not because you tried to trade  
your life for hers." Her voice sounded stern now, "Don't you dare and try it   
again. Do you hear me. You've worked long and hard and suffered a lot for it. You earned your redemption." As a reaction his head snapped up and he was staring at her with wide eyes. When she spoke again her voice was soft, "I'm glad I heard it because it reminded me how much you love me. And what a bitch I've been." She had to laugh, "I'm over 80 years old, but it's never too late to be a bitch, is it?"  
  
"I love you," he said suddenly and with a groan pulled her to him, holding her  
close. "God, how I love you."  
  
"I know," she said and started to cry. But they were good tears. Healing tears.  
"Just imagine. We've got this incredible gift. A future together."  
  
"I know," he mumbled into her hair. "I'm almost too afraid to let myself   
believe it."  
  
She slightly pulled back, "I talked to her, you know." When she saw his puzzled   
gaze she smiled. "Tara, Willow, Ellen and I held a séance and Tara gave me the   
chance to communicate with Anne. She's happy where she is, she doesn't resent me   
for having this chance and she wants us to be happy together."  
  
"I'm glad. It tore me apart to see you hurting like that. I could've killed   
Whistler, but it would've been the wrong person," he sighed loudly. "He's very   
annoying sometimes, but in his heart he is a good person."  
  
"Yeah," she agreed. "I met him the first time before I sent you to hell. Did I  
ever tell you that?"  
  
Surprised he looked at her, "No. Why did he come?"  
  
"He told me about the swords and that you were meant to take care of me, but   
that it got out of hand when we fell in love with each other." She snuggled   
closer to him again, enjoying the feeling of being so close. "Then," her voice   
became lower, "he told me I had to send you to hell if you succeeded to pull out   
the sword and to open the vortex. That your blood was the only way to seal it. I   
hated him for it, although it wasn't his fault either."  
  
"It's a damned job he has," Angel commented. "I don't envy him for it. Mostly   
he has bad news. The only time he had something good for me was when he brought   
me to see you."  
  
They were silent for a long time, just holding each other. Buffy was sitting  
between Angel's legs, her back leaned to his chest, while his head rested on   
hers. His arms had encircled her waist from behind and her hands rested on his'.   
She was stroking over them when she suddenly felt something. With a surprised   
sound she lifted his hand and looked at it, "Since when do you wear it again?,"   
she asked.  
  
"I put it on when I left America," he replied calmly. "It was as if I didn't   
have the right before. I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable around me."  
  
"I lost mine," she said sadly. "I left it in the Mansion on the spot where I   
sent you to hell. At that time it seemed the best place for it. I thought it was   
my way to say goodbye and let you go. I should've known you'd find a way back to   
me. I've given up on us so often Angel, but I swear I won't do it again. Talking   
to Anne made me realise that I can only honour this gift in living my life full.   
Refusing it would mean that she died in vain. I couldn't do that." She paused for a moment and then added with a smile in her voice, "Aaand, I really, really would like my life to be with you."  
  
"Me too," he answered without hesitation. "Me too." Shifting her between his   
legs so that she was facing him now his mouth descended on hers and their lips   
met in a lingering, passionate kiss, telling her more about his love than words   
could. Breaking the kiss after some time he smiled, "I want to make love to you.   
I want to feel you again, to be as near to you as possible." The way she   
responded told him that Willow had already told her about the happiness clause.  
  
"Me too. Do you realise it's been over 60 years." Suddenly she giggled, "Do you  
also think this is ... I dunno, kinda ... weird."  
  
"Not for a vampire. I'm used to this. After all I waited about 240 years until  
your 17th birthday to make love to someone. So, talk about weird."  
  
"Hey, was that a joke?"  
  
"Well, yeah...," he grinned. "But as much as I would like to make love to you I  
suppose I can't." Embarrassment entered his eyes and he looked away, "I ... I  
haven't exactly been ...," He didn't want to tell her that his body was too   
weak right now for carnal love.  
  
She pressed one finger on his lips, "I know. And I also know it was partly my  
fault." When he started to protest she kissed him quickly, "It was more than  
partly my fault. I should've known what my accusations would do to you. I heard  
what you said to Whistler, remember?"  
  
"I don't want you to feel responsible for this," he said.  
  
"I won't if you stop feeling responsible for Anne. I was wrong and you are too.   
I know you already blamed yourself for her death before I opened my big mouth."   
Suddenly she tilted her head, "Is it ... I mean," she bit her lower lip, feeling   
a bit unsure about her question, "what I want to say is, is it strange for you to see me in another body? I mean, this body is a lot like mine, it feels familiar, but I can also feel the differences, it's kinda funny actually, well sometimes, buying clothes for example, okay I'll stop now," she flushed in embarrassment.  
  
He had to grin at her babbling, "I know what you mean. And the answer is yes   
and no. It's not that I was ever really familiar with your body, although I   
remember everything from that night as if it had been yesterday. But it wasn't   
your body I fell in love with, the part I fell in love with is still the same,"   
then his grin grew even wider, "although I don't mind the way you look."  
  
"Why thank you sir," she joked. "A lady will never get tired of such   
compliments."  
  
"Good," his said with a nod. "Because," his voice became husky and he began to  
nibble at her earlobe, "I intend for you to hear many more of them."  
  
"Is that so," she whispered and then added, "You are aware that we're sitting   
in a graveyard of all places and even worse right above someone dead?"  
  
"We always had a thing for cemeteries," he commented dryly, his mouth now  
travelling down her neck what caused her to moan.  
  
"Uh ... Angel ... it's not ... uh ... comfortable."  
  
"You never complained before," he said mercilessly.  
  
"I was much younger then," she said with a grin.  
  
He slightly pulled back and looked at her, his eyes shining with his love for  
her, but there was something else, joy. It made her heart burst with love. "And  
you're so old now. Let me tell you about age. Do you even know how old *I* am?"  
  
"Something over 300, but after a certain age it doesn't really matter," she  
shrugged and grinned. "Besides you're used to being old, I'm still adjusting."  
  
"Is that so?," he pulled her closer again. "I really have to get in shape soon.  
But maybe it's better this way, we would probably shock the dead if I were to  
ravish you right now."  
  
"Ravish, huh?," she reached for him and began to tickle, "The question would be  
who's going to ravish whom."  
  
"Stop it," he said between laughter.  
  
Suddenly she gasped, "God, Angel you're like a skeleton. I will have to take   
good care of you and you promise never to do that again.  
  
"Promise," he held his hand out. "Marry me, let's not wait until I'm going to   
be human," he said suddenly.  
  
"Yes," she replied without hesitation. "We've waited long enough. Tara can do   
it. She's allowed to legally marry people and we won't have to answer questions." She grinned again, "I'd think it would be rather complicated with our let's say unconventional background. Besides I want Willow there. She's okay now, but she's not going to live forever," a little sadness flickered over her eyes but was instantly gone. "All we know is that this battle will be soon, but not exactly how soon. And it's unpredictable. I want to be your wife and you as my husband. It's the only thing I wanted all my life."  
  
"The same here," he sighed and pulled her close again. "Maybe we should go   
back. Tell them all about it. Us, I mean."  
  
"Hmmm," she made and snuggled closer. "Let's stay here a few more minutes.   
They'll know soon enough. You know, Willow's going to flip. She might be 80 but   
she's still Willow, I can almost hear her babble uncontrollably."  
  
"Yeah," he sighed again, "And your watcher will have to report to the Council  
that his transformed slayer is going to marry her vampire after all."  
  
"I love you, Angel," she said and close your eyes. "Always."  
  
"Yes, always," he replied and kissed her skull. "Buffy?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"First thing tomorrow we get you a new ring."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Yes, I want everyone to know that you belong to somebody. I won't ever let you  
go again, you know that?"  
  
"Very good," she sighed happily. "Angel?"  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Stop talking, better kiss me."  
  
And nothing was spoken for the next hours.  
  
It was almost sunrise when a shriek sounded through Willow's house and she  
immediately began searching for bridal magazines she'd kept from her  
grand-daughter.  
  
END  
  
That's it, guys. Hope you liked it. Please tell me, if you did? If you  
did not? (Hopefully not!!). Come on, let me know!   



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